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JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


THE 

JACK LORIMER SERIES 
Br WINN STANDISH 

Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illus- 
trated, per volume, $1.50 

CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER 
JACK LORIMER’S CHAMPIONS 
JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 
L. C. PAGE COMPANY 

New England Building, Boston, Mass. 












































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A LEAN AND GRIZZLED OLD MAN WAS STANDING AT THE 
DOOR OF THE TENT.” 


( Seepage 31.) 


| JACK LORIMER’S 
i HOLIDAYS 


OB 


MILLVALE HIGH IN CAMP 


By 

Winn Standish 

AUTHOR OF “ CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER,” “JACK 
LORIMER’S CHAMPIONS,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

FRANK P. FAIRBANKS 





BOSTON 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
1 908 






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|u6MRY of OON^WESS^ 
l t wo Copies riocwvaJ 

MAY 13 1908 

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7?UuJ* 

Me. imu 
COPY B. 


Copyright, igo8 
By L. C. Page & Company 

(incorporated) 


All rights reserved 


First Impression, April, 1908 



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«ee 


COLONIAL PRESS 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H . Simonds &■» Co. 
Boston , U. S. A . 


Carroll Jarmer 





















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PREFACE 


In “ Jack Lorimer’s Champions,” published a 
year ago, I told the story of a High School Base- 
ball League and the championship won by Millvale 
High. I promised, then, to complete the account 
of that summer’s doings and tell how the Millvale 
boys camped out, and the promise is redeemed 
in this book. 

“ Captain Jack Lorimer,” the first volume in 
the Lorimer Series, pictured Millvale’s ups and 
downs in football, hockey, and various indoor 
sports. “ Jack Lorimer’s Champions,” the second 
volume, was devoted chiefly to baseball, but dealt 
also with rowing, swimming, and field and track 
events. In the present story, Lorimer and his 
friends not only go camping, but they box, 
wheel, motor, figure in a horse-race, play jokes, 
plan strange inventions, and systematically seek 
for health — which itself is happiness. 

Probably many a reader will feel a special, 
sympathetic interest in Charles Pratt and Will 
Van Dusen, who came to Captain Jack that they 

vii 


viii 


PREFACE 


might be guided in strength-building habits. I 
trust their progress will encourage other boys to 
lead the wholesome life of athletes, and — since, 
in a story, it is hardly possible to go into details — 
I hope that at some future time, in a different 
kind of book, I may be able to take up the whole 
subject of exercise and training, and treat it as 
fully as Captain Jack’s admirers seem to wish. 

In the next volume in this series I shall tell the 
story of “ Jack Lorimer’s Senior Year.” Mean- 
while I tender acknowledgments to the Boston 
Sunday Herald , in which originally appeared the 
stories that have been rewritten to form the 
Lorimer books; and I add the hope that the 
young people who have stood by me so stanchly 
and generously will find pleasure and profit in 
this latest work of their friend 

Winn Standish. 

Boston, June 1 , 1908, 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. In Camp with a Restless Wildcat 

II. The Wanderings of Royal Burr 

III. When Willie and Charles Volun- 

teered 

IV. Jeff’s Camp - site at Four Corners . 

V. Prof. Distress Makes a Discovery 

VI. An Up - and - down Young Man . 

VII. The Song That Touched His Temper 

VIII. Cigarettes and Coffee Shut Out 

IX. At the Lawn - party, and Afterward . 

X. The Rackety Road up the Ledge 

XI. Smoke by the Side of the Road 

XII. In Time for the Formal Opening 

XIII. The Load of the White Elephant 

XIV. Girl Friends as Welcome Visitors 

XV. Nick and Nock and Merry Mac 

XVI. A Surprise for the Local Champion . 

XVII. The Hemperor of the Hatmosphere . 
XVIII. When the Emperor Took Passengers . 

XIX. To Entertain the Fat Boy’s Family . 

XX. From Baseball to Pyrotechnics . 

XXI. Tom, Dick, Gladys, and a Mistake 

XXII. The Best Man of the Elopers 
XXIII. Will and His Father Upset Things . 

XXIV. Avengers on Old Jared’s Trail . 

XXV. January and Others in School . 

XXVI. Bambino Calls at Millvale High 

ix 


PAGB 

I 

2 

!5 

24 

30 

38 

45 

52 

60 

68 

76 

83 

89 

96 

104 

113 

120 

127 

136 

144 

157 

167 

174 

181 

191 

199 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

XXVII. Three Times Round City Hall Square . 
XXVIII. Ned and His Wheel in Battle . 

XXIX. There and Back with the Others . 

XXX. Somebody Else to Ride the Rogue . 

XXXI. That Trial Run with Midnight 
XXXII. A Dead Heat and a Victory 
XXXIII. Trapped in a Hole in the Hills 
XXXIV. Pratt Gets What He Went After . 
XXXV. The Proving of Will Van Dusen 
XXXVI. In the Track of Van Dusen ’s Car . 


PAGE 

213 

221 

229 

237 

244 

252 

263 

272 

280 

288 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“ A LEAN AND GRIZZLED OLD MAN WAS STANDING AT 

the door of the tent ” (See page 51) Frontispiece ' 
“ Jabez picked up a stick for a weapon ” . . 9 

“The local champion made a rush like a bull ” 115 , 
“ The young woman was old Marlow’s daughter” 169 

“ A WILD - LOOKING STRANGER STEPPED SUDDENLY 

OUT BEFORE HIM ” 23 1 

“ Forward like a flash came King Tom ” .258 

“ His first glance showed him three persons ” 284 


«* . 

§ 



JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


CHAPTER I 

IN CAMP WITH A RESTLESS WILDCAT 

It was the mascot and the “ hassistant mascot ” 
— Royal Burr, wildcat, and January Jones, fat 
boy — that first suggested to Captain Jack Lori- 
mer the scheme of a camping party; and though 
the athletes of Mill vale High have teased January 
about it until he hates to be reminded of his 
little excursion, the story ought to be told, by 
way of introduction. 

The summer vacation was just beginning. 
Most of Lorimer’s closest friends, Terry McGrady, 
Tom Bell, Phil Kavanagh, Ned Harriott and 
others had graduated, leaving Captain Jack a 
year behind them, that year representing the 
time he had taken from his books to help his 
father in certain business perplexities. Lorimer 
would be a senior in his turn, when school re- 
opened; but the boys he liked best would no 
longer be there, and so he wanted to make the 


2 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


most of this vacation before they separated, 
some to enter college, others to go into busi- 
ness. 

And they had a good time in those summer 
months. Some of the things they did have been 
told in “ Jack Lorimer’s Champions,” the pre- 
ceding volume of this series. But before they had 
begun to do things, while, in spite of the holidays, 
everybody was feeling blue at the thought of the 
pleasant companionship which was so soon to 
end, — then January Jones, who felt as blue as 
anybody, stirred up a mild sensation, and gave 
Captain Jack his idea. 

Readers will remember the mascot of the 
Mill vale Athletic Club, a Canada lynx or wildcat, 
“ Royal Burr ” by name. Nor is there any need 
to introduce the “ hassistant mascot,” January 
Jones, — age eleven, height four feet seven inches, 
weight 150 pounds, — who, when his father died, 
came over from London “to be a Hamerican.” 
He lived with his mother’s cousin, Mr. O’Brien, 
the janitor of Mill vale High; he felt as if he 
belonged to the school and the gym; and when 
the older fellows found things dull, things were 
dull for January. 

His most depressing days came in early July, 
when the Fourth was past and there was no other 
excitement in sight. On one of the worst, as he 
dawdled along Main Street, looking in every win- 
dow like a country cousin, Fate fixed his eye on 



THE YOUNG WOMAN WAS OLD MARLOW’S DAUGHTER.” 




































































































































IN CAMP WITH A WILDCAT 3 


a newsdealer’s display, and he saw a small red 
pamphlet bearing the title, “ Camping in the 
Woods.” January stared at it awhile, then he 
went in and bought it, and lastly he went over 
and sat down on the City Hall steps and read the 
whole thing through. 

The pamphlet pretended to tell how a boy or a 
party of boys could go into the woods, build a 
tent of boughs and saplings, and have a fine time 
without spending much money. It was written 
by some one who knew very little about the 
subject. But January knew less; he did not 
realize that the author’s instructions were neither 
clear nor practical, and he thought he had found 
a treasure. 

“ Hi’ll do it, blow me! ” January muttered, as 
he read. “ While Hi’m stuck on me hinvention, 
Hi might as well be on the loose, what? Hi’ll 
take Royal hout, too. ’E’ll be pleased to get some 
fresh hair.” 

Whose “ hair ” the wildcat was liable to get, 
January didn’t stop to think. But of course the 
reader understands that what the fat boy intended 
for Royal was a little outing and some wholesome 
exercise. 

There were things to be attended to, though, 
beforehand. The first thing was to buy a stout 
collar and a light, strong chain; and the next 
was to hunt up Mr. Seth Lanard, an old citizen 
who stood by the athletes through thick and thin, 


4 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and proffer a request — which that generous 
friend acceded to at once. 

“ Build a tent in my woods? ” he repeated. 
“ Certain, certain, build a dozen if ye want to, 
January, — only be careful, if ye make any fires, 
that ye don’t let ’em spread.” 

Mr. Lanard was busy, and the fat boy didn’t 
explain the scheme, and, in fact, felt rather 
relieved that no questions were asked. First he 
wanted to build his tent and set up housekeeping. 
To-morrow he would astonish people by showing 
them what he had done and telling them that he 
and Royal had spent the night in the open. 

Breaking through the underbrush at a point 
where it was more dense than common, a shield 
that promised privacy, January got into Lanard’s 
Woods. He had a small hatchet and a coil of 
clothes-line, and, when he found three saplings 
that grew conveniently near, he began operations 
by bending down the tops and tying them to- 
gether. 

Across the tops he laid hemlock boughs. 
Around three sides of the space thus covered he 
drove stakes that he found in a small clearing 
just beyond his hut, interweaving the stakes 
with more boughs. More boughs still gave him 
a floor and bed in one — and then he stood off 
and surveyed his handiwork with honest pride. 

“ Hi’ll go and get me tea,” he said. “ Then 
Hi’ll feed Royal Burr. But Hi won’t try to bring 


IN CAMP WITH A WILDCAT 5 


’im hover till it’s darker, when there’s nothing 
houtdoors to stir ’im hup, ye know.” 

Yawning hard, and feeling as if he would much 
rather stay where he was, the fat boy set out for 
home. But on second thought, since to carry 
his provisions and manage the wildcat might be 
almost too much of an undertaking, he decided 
not to go home for supper. He got a little luncheon 
at a shop, bought his supplies and a small dark 
lantern, and made a second trip to his hut to 
leave the articles he expected to use in the 
morning. 

To say that January was tired, by the time he 
got back to the gym, is to put it mildly. He ached 
all over, and his eyes were trying hard to shut. 
He had to keep awake and pretend to be lively, 
not to run the risk of exposing his secret. But 
it was hard work, harder than building the hut, 
and he was thankful that it was a warm night, 
so that by 9 o’clock or thereabouts all the fellows 
had drifted away. Then January got out his 
collar and chain and went over to the wildcat’s 
cage. 

‘‘Come hon, hold sport!” he said. ‘‘We’re 
going for a walk, ye know! ’Old hup, now! Lift 
your ’ead and we’ll ’ave you fixed in a jiff! ” 

The thing was simpler than any one could have 
anticipated. Royal caught the gleam of the 
bosses on the collar, and they held his attention 
until the collar was passed around his neck and 


6 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


clasped at the top. He seemed a little nervous, 
then, but he contented himself with making 
one or two dabs at it; and he was so curious 
about what might be going to happen that he 
neglected to scratch or snarl; he only waited. 

“ Hout you come, hold son! ” January said 
gaily. “ Captain Jack says Hi didn’t hought 
to take you hinto the street, so we’ll go hacross 
the fields, what? ” At the words he gave a gentle 
tug at the chain, and Royal, nothing loth, 
stretched his lithe frame and came out of the 
cage. 

Never once in a thousand attempts could 
January do what he did that night, for, in front 
or behind him or at his side, the wildcat padded 
along like a lamb. It was partly the strangeness 
of it, perhaps, for months had passed since Royal 
had felt the ground under his paws; partly the 
solitude and silence, for they met neither man 
nor beast; partly the animal’s confidence in his 
leader; partly the restraint of the collar and 
chain. 

Anyway, there was no protest on the wildcat’s 
part. He even followed tamely through that 
hedge of underbrush, which pricked his sides 
and made him sneeze. Bursting with exultation, 
January led him up to the hut and slipped the 
ring on the end of his chain over the head of 
the stake. 

“ ’Ow’s this, hold sport? ” the fat boy chuckled. 


IN CAMP WITH A WILDCAT 7 


“ Ain’t this prime, what? Ho, no, Hi guess yes! 
Go to bed now, Royal, and when you wake hup 
you’ll ’ave an happetite! ” 

Almost as if the wildcat understood, he curled 
up on his bed of boughs. Retreating his own 
length into the scant shelter of his roof, January 
himself lay down. He had nothing but the 
boughs under him, and nothing over him, but he 
could have slept to-night on the soft side of a 
plank, and — 

He slept. 

The gleam of dawn was in the sky when he 
awoke — with a start, if not a jump. The 
strangeness of the place was heavy upon him. 
For a second he did not understand. But some- 
how he felt that something had happened. 

He sat up and gazed around in a bewildered 
way. The first thing he saw was the paper that 
had held Royal Burr’s breakfast — four pounds 
of chuck beef. The paper was empty. Evi- 
dently Royal had eaten his breakfast. 

He remembered, then, and glanced toward the 
stake over which he had slipped the ring at the 
end of the wildcat’s chain. 

The stake had been uprooted and lay flat on 
the ground. The chain was no longer attached 
to it. The wildcat was gone! 


CHAPTER II 


THE WANDERINGS OF ROYAL BURR 

At just about the time when January, suddenly 
awakened, was staring at the place where the 
wildcat had been, and wondering what had 
become of him, Jabez Ross, an old farmer whose 
place was nearest Lanard’s Woods on the north 
side, was roused with as sharp a shock, by a 
dream that his barn had been struck by lightning. 

It was very real — so real that, though he could 
hear the horses neighing and stamping, the cattle 
bellowing and the poultry cackling furiously, he 
thought for a minute or two that this was all 
part of the dream. It needed that his wife should 
nudge him three or four times, and ask what he 
was thinking of, and wdiy he didn’t go to see what 
ailed the stock, before he hurried on his trousers 
and started for the barn. 

Never was there a more terrific din than that 
which he heard as he drew near. Seldom had 
Jabez been more frightened. He was tempted 
to run the other way and let his property take 
its chances. But, if he did that, his wife would 
be “ after him,” and, nerved by the dread of her, 
8 



u 


JABEZ PICKED UP A STICK FOR A WEAPON. 




9 













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THE WANDERINGS OF BURR 9 


Jabez picked up a stick for a weapon, and cau- 
tiously threw open the barn door. 

As he did so something sprang out at him — 
something with blazing eyes that threatened 
death and destruction. It landed on his shoulder. 
For an instant it clung there, the terrible eyes 
glaring into his, the long talons piercing his flesh 
like so many hot needles. Then with a scream 
that was almost as loud as the old man’s yell 
of fear and pain, it bounded away. 

But the backward kick of the hind legs, with 
which the creature launched itself, came so 
strongly and so suddenly that it flung old Jabez 
on his face; and, when he managed to get on his 
feet again, the thing that had assaulted him was 
out of sight. 

“ By glory, that must ’a’ been a lion or a tiger! ” 
he muttered. 

That it was something fierce and muscular, 
he was sure when he looked inside, for three of 
his hens had had their heads snapped off and 
the flank of one of the cows showed the rake of 
heavy claws. But the mischief, whatever it was, 
was done, and the farmer closed the barn and 
went back to the house, resolved to set hunters 
on the “ varmint’s ” trail. 

One, however, was already busy. That was 
January. 

When Royal Burr literally “ pulled up stakes ” 
and started to seek his fortune, he left clues 


10 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


behind, thanks to that dragging chain which 
probably prevented him taking to the trees. 
There were not many places where the fat boy 
was puzzled to find the marks it made, and they 
led him pretty straight to Ross’s bam, to an 
open window over the stalls. 

January listened a minute, and heaved a sigh 
of relief when he heard no sounds of battle and 
bloodshed. Then he scouted toward the house. 
Old Jabez was just coming out, looking ferocious 
enough to bite off nails. January lifted his cap. 

“ Good morning, Mr. Ross,” he said. “ Hany- 
thing ’appened, what? ” 

“ Been some kind of varmint in my bam, if 
ye call that anything! ” the old man answered 
sourly. “ Killed three hens and scratched a cow 
and give me a good rakin’, consam his pictur’! ” 
“ Where is ’e? Did you catch ’im, what? ” 
cried January, eagerly. 

“ Ketch him! Ketch a streak o’ lightnin’ with 
claws onto it! I was mighty willin’ to see him go! 
But I kind o’ cal’late a bullet ’ll ketch him, if 
I can find some fellers with guns! ” 

“Ho, no, Mr. Ross; ho, no!” was January’s 
earnest rejoinder. “ That’s Royal Burr, ye know, 
hour tame wildcat. Hi’ll pay for hall the ’arm 
’e does. Hand Hi say, Mr. Ross, if ’e comes back 
again, Hi wish you’d ’old hon to ’im, ye know! ” 
January added as he turned to pick up the trail. 
“ Tame wildcat, hey? I be blessed if I want 


THE WANDERINGS OF BURR 11 


to meet any wild wildcats, then! ” the old man 
growled. “ As for holdin’ on to him, if he comes 
back when I’m outdoors here, I cal’late you’ll 
see me shin that ’ere lightnin’ rod! ” 

“ Which way did ’e go, what? ” 

“ I can’t tell ye. He set me goin’ t’other 
way.” 

But here again, after some little search, the 
fat boy found the tracks. The ring on the end 
of the wildcat’s chain was a fine rubbish-collector, 
and every time Royal leaped forward he must 
have taken quite a heap of odds and ends along 
with him. They blazed a path that almost any- 
body might have followed. 

Possibly the animal stopped to rest, once in 
awhile, for after half an hour January found he 
was getting “ warm.” The tracks crossed a 
road; and in the road a hatless man who was 
covered with dust and had a lump on his forehead 
was jumping up and down and using language 
that made the fat boy’s ears tingle. 

“ ’Elio! What’s hup? ” he asked. 

Never mind what the man answered. The gist 
of it was that he was dozing on his wagon, driving 
to market, when Royal Burr came out of the 
bushes by the roadside. Then the horse bolted, 
pitched him, the driver, out, and was probably 
by this time half-way to Boston. 

Here was a case where the fat boy thought it 
would be safer not to admit any responsibility 


12 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


until after the victim cooled down. But he sym- 
pathized, and managed to find out his name and 
residence, meaning to adjust damages later on. 
Then January plunged into the underbrush on 
the other side of the road — and within five 
minutes found Royal Burr. 

That ring on the end of his chain had been the 
ruin of Royal. Somehow as it dragged along it 
had slipped over the end of a stout, half-buried 
root, and far enough up the root so that the 
beast could not tear it loose. He had done some 
energetic scratching to free himself, and he was 
snarling and clawing furiously when January 
broke through the bushes. But when he saw 
the fat boy he looked, January thought, as if he 
was ashamed and sorry. 

“ Trouble enough, hold sport! ” January said. 
“You didn’t hought to leave your friends that 
away and go to killing ’ens and scaring ’osses, 
what? Hi’m ashamed of you, Royal, blow me! ” 

The wildcat made another dab at the root, as 
if to say that that was the thing to blame, and 
then he lay down, blinking at January. 

“ Hi don’t know ’ow to get you back to the 
gym,’’ January went on, shaking his head at the 
beast. “ Too far to walk you hin the daytime, 
ye know. Ho, yus, the bloomink camp’s guv 
hup, Royal! ’’ he added sorrowfully. “ Hif you 
won’t stay, Hi can’t ’ave you, ye know! 

“ Hi’m going for to take a turn of rope haround 


THE WANDERINGS OF BURR 13 


your collar and that tree,” he said, suiting the 
action to the word. “ Then Hi’m going for to 
telephone the gym, and ’ave your cage sent hup. 
Hand you want to keep still and be’ave yourself 
while Hi’m away, you ’ear me? ” 

Whether he understood or not, the wildcat 
made no protest; and when January returned 
from a trip to the nearest telephone, and again 
an hour later, when the cage arrived on an 
express wagon, in charge of Captain Jack and 
Lou Mains, he was still lamblike. Once more, 
when January ordered him into the cage, Royal 
went as meekly as if he thought he belonged 
there. 

But January felt none of the pride in that, that 
he had a right to feel. He was too disappointed 
over the failure of his enterprise. Indeed, he 
took it so much to heart that Lorimer wouldn’t 
scold him for the dangerous risk he had run and 
to which he had exposed others. 

“ Never mind, January. You haven’t wasted 
your time,” Captain Jack said soothingly. “ Lou 
and I were saying, as we came along, that we 
might not have thought of camping out, if you 
hadn’t started the scheme. As it is, we’ll get 
up a party, by and by, and of course we’ll take 
you.” 

January looked down at the wildcat and wagged 
a finger at him reproachfully. 

“You ’ear that, Royal Burr? ” he said. “You 


14 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


might ’ave gone too, hif you’d be’aved your- 
self! ” 

But, though he didn’t say him nay, Captain 
Jack, for one, had serious doubts about it. 

As he looked forward to the summer camp, 
in these first moments of plan-making, he saw a 
limited number of intimate friends going away to 
the woods and, for a fortnight or more, escaping 
every wearisome responsibility. Yet he was 
soon to realize that — even though the wildcat 
should be left behind ! — the size of the party 
would outrun his estimate, and it would include, 
besides his friends, some, strangers almost, to 
whom he would be bound to render sympathy 
and constant aid. 


CHAPTER III 


WHEN WILLIE AND CHARLES VOLUNTEERED 

“ Your name is Lorimer? Something of an 
athlete, I understand? Well, I’ve been having 
you looked up, Lorimer, and I’ve about decided 
that I’ll have you act as a kind of companion and 
adviser to my Willie.” 

Courtney Van Dusen had spoken — a short, 
stout, grizzled man of sixty, probably the richest 
man in Millvale, and the kind of person who 
thinks his money gives him the right to “ boss ” 
everybody. Though he was in business in Boston, 
he had recently bought a splendid estate in the 
suburban city, and people said he had set up a 
magnificent establishment, with a train of servants 
and all that. But Captain Jack, who never paid 
much attention to gossip, had no idea of the 
make-up of the family, and didn’t know “ Willie ” 
from a stick of wood. 

“ Willie is my son, the only child,” Van Dusen 
went on, pompously. “ Naturally he has been 
petted by everybody, and luxuries of all kinds 
have been at his command from the moment of 
his birth. In one sense that is proper, for it is 
desirable that he should realize his position and 
15 


16 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


opportunities. Possibly, however, we have not 
always weighed the effect upon his health, as 
we should have done. I find him now showing 
weak, nervous and irritable tendencies which 
my physician advises are best to be corrected by 
physical training. So I have decided to let you 
take him in hand.” 

“ With or without my own consent? ” Lorimer 
suggested. His manner was calm and smiling, 
but Van Dusen had rasped him, and he was 
bound the millionaire should realize that this was 
a matter it took two to settle. 

“ Why, why, I propose to pay you for any 
service you may render! ” the other sputtered. 

“ Provided I agree to render any service, I 
shall not hesitate to accept payment,” was Lori- 
mer’s cool rejoinder. “ But it would have to be 
clearly understood that, if I undertook the task 
you mention, I should have complete control of 
your son’s food, his sleeping hours, and his 
amusements, as well as his exercise; and unless 
the lad seemed to me worth working over, I 
wouldn’t bother with him at any price! ” 

Van Dusen gasped. Probably not for years 
had he been talked to so plainly. But as a business 
man he knew that nobody but a fool would 
accept responsibility unless he could have author- 
ity to back it; so, instead of making the furious 
reply that for a moment was on the tip of his 
tongue, he actually consented to argue. 


WILLIE VOLUNTEERED 17 


“ I could probably agree to any reasonable 
condition — it being understood, of course, that 
Willie should not associate to any great extent 
with social inferiors,” he said. But at this 
Lorimer laughed once more. 

“ It’s not easy to train effectively unless a 
fellow has the stimulus of measuring himself with 
other fellows who are working along the same 
line,” he answered. “ Your boy would meet 
intelligent boys whose habits are right and whose 
talk is clean. Do you think they’d do him any 
harm? ” 

Van Dusen couldn’t say yes to that, and he 
wouldn’t say no; but before he decided on his 
answer, Captain Jack added calmly: 

“ Of course they might, though, if your boy 
set up a claim that he was a good deal better 
than they, because his father has more money. 
If he kept harping on that string, I’d be tempted 
to give him a larruping myself! ” 

The millionaire’s face reddened and he looked 
ready to burst. But Lorimer had called on his 
invitation and must have the privileges of a 
guest; and doubtless deep down in his heart 
Van Dusen knew he was right. There was silence 
for a minute or two. 

“ In the event that you took charge of my 
boy’s training, how would you begin? ” Van 
Dusen asked, at length. 

“ Probably by taking him on a camping trip 


18 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and letting him rough it in the woods for 
awhile.’ * 

41 That’s the stuff! I’m going, papa! ” 

The interruption was as much of a surprise to 
Van Dusen as it was to Lorimer. Yet perhaps 
the man should have been prepared for it, for it 
was caused by his son, the subject of their dis- 
cussion, — a white, scrawny, undersized lad of 
eleven or twelve years. That was the first impres- 
sion Captain Jack received as the boy dashed 
aside the portieres and stood before them, fairly 
quivering with excitement. 

“ I heard what you said,” he cried to Lorimer. 
44 I won’t be whipped, you just remember, but 
I want to go camping out, real old Indian way! 
Fix it, papa! ” 

Van Dusen looked at him helplessly. 

M You might miss the people you have here 
to wait on you,” he suggested. 

“ I don’t care! I want to play Indian! ” 

44 Who do you think you’d play with? Mr. 
Lorimer would be too busy attending to things 
to have much time for play.” 

Again Jack laughed. 

44 If your son went with me, Mr. Van Dusen,” 
he said, 44 he would simply be one of twenty 
boys. He would wait on himself, take his turn 
at the rough and dirty work, and enjoy precisely 
the same consideration, no more, that every other 
lad received. I should watch to see that he did 


WILLIE VOLUNTEERED 19 


not attempt any exercise or sport that was beyond 
his strength; but contact with fellows who are 
older, stronger and w T iser would be an important 
part of his training, and his standing in the party 
would be such as he won by his own manly 
qualities/’ 

It was straight talk, but Captain Jack meant 
that it should be so. The Van Dusens, father 
and son, were probably saturated with the pride 
of their money, and they must begin by learn- 
ing that, with the Lorimer crowd, money didn’t 
count. 

Van Dusen himself took it better than Jack 
had expected. He bristled a little at first, but as 
his eye roved from his own boy to Lorimer, he 
calmed down and grew thoughtful. 

“ Can you make him as — as strong, sym- 
metrical and well set-up as yourself? ” the father 
asked. 

“ Undoubtedly — if there is no organic weak- 
ness.” 

14 Say, when are you going camping out? ” the 
boy interrupted. 

“ In about a week, perhaps. I shall go into 
the country — to a place called Four Comers — 
to try to make arrangements, to-morrow.” 

“ Can I go with you and see the place? ” 

“ No.” 

The boy frowned and looked as if he was on 
the point of flying into a rage. But Lorimer 


20 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


caught his eye and held it steadily, and he thought 
better of it. 

“ How much will the camping trip cost? ” the 
father inquired. 

“ Railroad fares included, probably seven or 
eight dollars a week.” 

“ And how much am I to pay for your serv- 
ices?” 

“ Nothing, until I decide whether to undertake 
the care of your son. If you will send him down 
to our gym at, say, 7 o’clock to-morrow morning, 
our director, Mr. Mains, and I will give him a 
thorough going-over and form an idea of what he 
needs.” 

“ But Willie seldom gets up before 9! ” Van 
Dusen objected. 

“ Willie will have to learn to get up! ” Captain 
Jack said firmly. 

“ Why, of course I’ll get up! I’ll be there! ” 
the boy himself added. That was a good sign, 
and Lorimer felt more friendly. He smiled as 
he rose to go. 

“ All right, then, Will, I’ll see you to-morrow 
morning, and put you through a course of sprouts,” 
he said. “You can be strong if you’re will- 
ing to work for it and live rightly, but I want 
you — and your father — to remember that 
nobody can help you unless you try to help your- 
self! ” 

With that Lorimer made his escape, literally 


WILLIE VOLUNTEERED 21 


so, for the boy wanted to keep him ; and, smiling 
over this odd interview, hurried down to the 
gym. 

He did not look forward with any great en- 
thusiasm to the task of training young Van 
Dusen. The money it might fairly be worth — 
and he was resolved not to take any more — 
would hardly compensate for the annoyances 
involved in trying to keep his pupil straight in 
the midst of an idle, self-indulgent household. 
But, only a little wdiile before, he had been telling 
Terry McGrady that they ought to “ catch ’em 
younger ” — pay more attention to the small 
boys and see that they were started right — and 
how could he consistently decline this oppor- 
tunity? 

“ I’ll try it,” he muttered, as he entered the 
gym; and then Lou Mains called him to the 
telephone, and he went forward to find himself 
booked for more trouble. 

“ Mr. Lorimer? ” came the message over the 
line. “ This is Mr. Horton of Roxbridge. I 
understand that you plan a camping party. 
Would you be willing to take my nephew, Charles 
Pratt? He expresses a great admiration for 
you, and I am sure you could do him good.” 

Lorimer thought a minute. 

“ Our arrangements have not been completed, 
Mr. Horton,” he said. “ I shall have to ask you 
to wait a day or two for a definite answer. I’ll 


22 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


call you up, perhaps to-morrow night, or Wed- 
nesday. Good-bye.” 

Another fellow who wanted them to give him a 
chance! This was beginning to grow monotonous, 
thought Captain Jack, as he turned away. And, 
yet, if anybody ought to be helped, it was surely 
the fellows nobody liked, and the fellows who 
needed it most! 

May Roxton’s sweet face grew tender and 
pitiful when Lorimer stated the case to her, — 
the one girl who had his fullest confidence, — 
and she spoke quickly. “ I know what’ll you 
do, Jack,” she said. 

“ It isn’t altogether my affair, remember,” 
he suggested. But once again May made emphatic 
answer. 

“ Then I know what the other fellows will 
do,” she rejoined. “ They’ll pity the little Van 
Dusen boy ; and, when they think it over, they’ll 
feel the same way about Pratt. Perhaps it’s 
Pratt’s own fault that he hasn’t many friends — 
but just fancy how lonely he must be! And just 
remember how good everybody has been to us 
Millvale young people, helping us to get a gym 
and a boat-house and a tennis-court and every- 
thing we wanted! Seems to me we ought to be 
glad of an opportunity to pass on a kindness! ” 

Lorimer shook his head doubtfully. May 
had spoken just as he expected. He would have 
been surprised and disappointed had she taken 


WILLIE VOLUNTEERED 23 


a less generous view. Yet in the case of Pratt, 
at least, he realized that all the campers would 
have a right to be consulted, and the situation 
was not so simple as she seemed to think. 


CHAPTER IV 


jeff’s camp -site at four corners 

It was Lou Mains, director of the Mill vale 
Athletic Club’s gymnasium, who in two of his 
pithy sentences — for Mains was not much of a 
talker — summed up young Will Van Dusen. 

“ Eating wrong, sleeping wrong, twisted every 
way! ” Mains muttered. “ Ought to have him 
under your eye the whole twenty-four hours, to 
do him any good! ” 

Van Dusen was truly a discouraging proposition. 
His limbs were in the right place and his organs 
seemed sound, but that was about all one could 
say. He was thin, weak and undeveloped, and 
the routine of his daily life tended to make him 
worse. Yet there were little things cropping up 
in the talk with him that led Lorimer to think 
the boy had will, courage and “ stick-to-it- 
iveness.” Everybody had done their best to 
spoil him ; but, though they had made him some- 
thing of a snob, they had not uprooted from his 
nature a foundation of manliness which a wise 
friend could build upon. 

There was no time just now, however, to do 
more than ‘ ‘ size him up . ” Lorimer gave him some 
24 


JEFF S CAMP -SITE 


25 


hints on diet, and told him to go to bed at 8 
o’clock and come to the gym next morning. Then 
Captain Jack joined Jeff Bussey, a schoolmate 
in Mill vale High, and they started for “ Four 
Comers, ’way off in the country, six miles from a 
railroad, the place I came from” — as Jeff 
sometimes described it. 

Walking down Main Street, ahead of the boys, 
was a plump little man who carried a butterfly 
net. It was not likely that he expected to make 
a capture in that locality, but “ just for encourage- 
ment,” Jeff, who was a ventriloquist, sent his 
voice forward to the other’s ear. 

“Hm-m-m! B-z-z-z!” The plump little man 
jumped and flourished his net wildly. Evidently 
he was near-sighted; and as Jeff repeated the 
insect call he rose on tiptoe and circled slowly 
round, one hand shading his eyes, the other, 
with the net, held ready for a swoop. 

“ Can’t ye catch your bug, professor? ” Jeff 
asked as they came up to him. 

“ I do not see! See you? ” was the professor’s 
answer. They left him dancing about the side- 
walk, waiting for another call that might show 
the insect’s whereabouts. But Jeff did not give 
it, though he chuckled as he looked backward. 

“ You’ve heard about the private school that 
Artemus Blodgett — the beauty we used to call 
‘ Blackboard, the Pirate,’ when he was assistant 
in Millvale High — that Blodgett’s goin’ to 


26 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 

start? Well, that’s Prof. D’Estrees, his French 
teacher,” Bussey explained. “ Prof. Distress, the 
boys call him. 

“ Seems the professor’s goin’ to spend the 
summer here, waitin’ for the school to open, and 
he’s amusing himself with natural history. Guess 
he doesn’t know much about it. Our Principal, 
Mr. Blaisdell, sort o’ smiles when anybody speaks 
of his excursions. But then, as long as the old 
man’s havin’ fun, what more do you want? ” 

Captain Jack nodded and smiled. It was fun 
that they themselves were planning. 

When Lorimer made the first suggestion of a 
summer camp, Jeff Bussey had come to the 
front with the demand that it be established at 
Four Comers. There he himself owned land — 
“ all kinds o’ land, not to speak of rocks and 
water ” — and the fellows could choose a location 
for themselves and feel sure that nobody would 
have a right to disturb or annoy them. 

Then again, they knew the Four Comers young 
people, Harry Lee and his comrades, and at any 
time when the usual sports of a camp grew tire- 
some they could get up a ball game or a ’cross- 
country run. And there was an advantage, as 
Jeff pointed out, in camping in a friendly neigh- 
bourhood, since “ accidents will happen ” and 
one never knew when he might need some kind 
of help. 

All these arguments were sound, as Lorimer 


JEFF’S CAMP -SITE 


27 


agreed. And Jeff was bound to have his way. 
When school closed he was supposed to return to 
Four Comers, to spend the summer with his 
uncle and guardian ; but he had passed more time 
in Millvale than at the other place, and, morning, 
noon and night, he had besought Captain Jack 
to come to the Comers for a day, that he, Jeff, 
might “ show him/’ 

To-day Jeff had arranged to be met at the 
Junction, and it was one of his own teams in which 
the boys rode to and beyond the square and into 
the hilly part of the town. 

“ Bussey’s Woods, over yonder,” Jeff said with 
a long sweep around the horizon. “ I mean it! 
Two hundred acres, more or less, most of it tall 
timber and fit to cut. You can tell what I think 
of our Millvale crowd, by my invitin’ the boys 
to camp in it. Mighty few I’d trust that far! 
The average city gang would have it afire within 
twenty-four hours, I cal’late! ” 

“ I don’t feel much like taking the risk myself, 
Jeff ! ” Lorimer said soberly. 

“ Oh, shucks! I’m goin’ to be with ye, ain’t I? 
If I’m willing to chance it, you ought to be! 
See here! ” 

He jumped from the buggy as they came to 
the end of what seemed to have been used as a 
wood-road, hitched the horse, and led the way 
into a clearing ringed around by tall trees, at the 
foot of a great ledge. 


28 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Quarter of an acre, smooth as a floor, for the 
tents,” Jeff chuckled. “ Trees to hitch anything 
to, from horizontal bars to hammocks. Ledge 
cuts off the north and east winds. Boiling 
spring, finest water in the State, within two 
minutes' walk — and the river’s nearer than it 
is to our gym in Mill vale. Beat it if ye can! ” 

“ It’s a beautiful spot, sure enough,” Lorimer 
admitted. 

“ Live on the fish you catch, if you want to save 
money,” Jeff rattled on. “ Plenty of milk and 
eggs to be bought within a quarter of a mile — 
or I’ll drive over and steal ’em from Uncle Isaiah, 
if you say so! Store’s a mile and a half away, 
but then, we won’t want much of anything from 
the store. Beat it if ye can! ” 

It was an ideal location, on every account, and 
the more Lorimer looked at it, the better he liked 
it. But he would not definitely agree to take it 
for a camping-ground until Uncle Isaiah, Jeff’s 
guardian, had heard about the plan and given his 
approval — which he did, to a certain extent, 
though he was not so enthusiastic as his nephew. 

“Jeff says you’re well-behaved fellers,” he 
admitted, “ and he’ll be there himself to see that 
you don’t set the woods afire, so I don’t know’s 
I’ve any objections. All is, I’m glad it ain’t 
me that’s got to sleep outdoors! ” 

So it was settled; and now that Captain Jack 
had promised to fetch his party to Four Comers, 


JEFFS CAMP -SITE 


29 


Jeff consented to remain at home. Probably he 
would be of very little use to Uncle Isaiah, for 
he would be too busy getting things ready for 
the campers. “ But there won’t be so much 
danger of our forgettin’ what the boy looks like,” 
the old man said. 

It was a pleasant afternoon, and a lively one, 
that the fellows spent with Harry Lee and others, 
and the time for Lorimer to leave came all too 
soon. Jeff drove him back to the station and 
acted as though he had half a mind to turn his 
horse loose and jump on the train. 

“ Give my best regards to everybody,” he said. 
“ The whole o’ Millvale — yes, the Blodgetts and 
old Webb and Fitzpatrick and all! Say, I’m 
homesick already! For the sake of goin’ back 
to Millvale, I’d almost be willin’ to pitch in and 
help Prof. Distress hunt bugs! ” 


CHAPTER V 


PROF. DISTRESS MAKES A DISCOVERY 

Since Captain Jack paid little heed to gossip, 
he had not heard of Blodgett’s assistant, Prof. 
D’Estrees, or, if he had heard, had forgotten. 
His younger brother Tom, however, could have 
told him all about the old Frenchman. In fact, 
Tom and his chum, Roger Aheam, had been keep- 
ing Prof. “ Distress ” busy for several days. 

It was a practical joke they were working at, 
of course. That was the reason why they kept it 
to themselves. The elder Lorimer didn’t believe 
in practical jokes, he thought most of them either 
silly or mean, and, when Tom and Roger had 
anything of the kind on hand, they were generally 
quiet about it. 

This one would probably never have been 
thought of, if Blodgett’s French master had not 
gone into bad company. He was harmless 
enough. But he was Blodgett’s man; and when 
Jim Fitzpatrick began to be seen with him — 
doubtless attracted by cigarettes, of which the 
older man was lavish — the doom of Prof. Distress 
was sealed. For in every plot against the Mill- 
30 


DISTRESS MAKES DISCOVERY 31 


vale athletes Fitzpatrick had had a share, and 
he was such a mean and cowardly rascal that it 
seemed proper to strike at him “ on general prin- 
ciples.” 

What to do was a question. The professor’s 
14 bug-hunting,” as the boys called it, seemed to 
be his weak point, because, though his enthusiasm 
was boundless, his knowledge was evidently 
small. But the conspirators puzzled long over a 
way to catch the professor and Fitz — until, 
one day in Roger’s room, Tom’s eye fell on two 
curious objects which he promptly took down 
to examine. 

Homs, claws, toes — Tom couldn’t make them 
out. Whatever they were, they spread from a 
piece of leather-covered bone, capped with silver; 
and, holding that end, young Lorimer amused 
himself by dabbing them against a table, until 
Roger noticed what he had. 

“ Queer things for a present, eh? ” Roger said. 
“ Fellow we used to know sent ’em to my sister 
Rose, from Australia. They’re an emu’s feet. 
Of course she didn’t want ’em, so she gave ’em 
to me.” 

Idly Tom went on flattening the talons against 
the table. All at once the glimmer of a grin 
spread over his face. 

“Say!” he cried. “Let’s set the professor 
and Fitz to hunting this bird. Keep ’em out of 
mischief, you know.” 


32 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 

Roger stared a minute. Then he, too, began 
to grin. “ Scatter some footprints around, you 
mean? ” he said. 

“ That’s the idea. Wish we had a sandy soil, 
like that in Winterton! I tell you, though, there 
are some patches of sand over back of our boat- 
house. We could start the tracks there, and 
then we could make the bird do some long jumps, 
see? Let’s go and look over the ground.” 

It took a long half-day to get things ready. 
But when they were fixed, the conspirators 
contrived to meet where Fitzpatrick’s younger 
brother could overhear, while Tom told Roger 
about curious tracks in the sand, over beyond 
the boat-house, and Roger suggested that probably 
Prof. Distress would give a dollar to know. 

Young Fitz listened with all his ears, and, 
when he thought the others weren’t noticing, 
slipped away. At a safe distance, Tom and 
Roger followed, and placed themselves where 
they could watch. 

They were in the boat-house when the two 
Fitzpatrick boys, with Prof. Distress in tow, went 
by toward the sand-patches. They saw young 
Fitz, the first discoverer, stiffen like a pointer, 
and the Frenchman go down on his knees and 
stay there for as much as five minutes. And it 
was worth studying, that footprint. Tom had 
lain in the grass, that he might leave no tracks, 
and stretched his arm full length to make it. 


DISTRESS MAKES DISCOVERY 33 


Finally Prof. Distress arose and began excitedly 
to give instructions. It was easy to guess what 
they would be, and Tom and Roger nudged each 
other as they saw him and the two Fitzpatricks 
walk off, eyes on the ground, keeping a few feet 
apart. 

The professor himself found the next footprint, 
and waved his arms wildly. Young Fitz signalled 
the third. And thus they chased the trail over 
two or three square miles of territory, until 
finally it seemed to end. 

Tom and Roger had been careful not to overdo 
the thing, and sometimes there would be a space 
of fifty or sixty yards between one set of foot- 
prints and the next. It must have seemed to 
the professor that the mysterious bird was either 
taking short flights or long leaps. But never 
for an instant did he and his companions doubt 
that they had made a great discovery and, when 
they ceased their explorations for the day and 
started homeward, the professor was jabbering 
his delight at the top of his voice, in three or 
four different languages. 

Next morning Tom slipped out and fixed up 
another mile or two of trail, while in the afternoon 
he and Roger between them made the bird start 
out in an entirely different direction and wander 
erratically. Thus for nearly a week the professor 
and the Fitzpatricks were lured up and down 
and round about. And then, emboldened by 


34 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


their success, the boys put together all their 
pocket money and bought an egg. 

It may have been an emu’s egg, or an ostrich’s. 
It was a large one, anyhow, and solely on that 
account Tom and Roger persuaded an old sailor 
to spare it from his collection of curios. 

In the opening, where the egg had been blown, 
they carefully inserted, rolled in a little ball, a 
single word printed in bold type, which they cut 
from an auctioneer’s handbill. They filled the 
egg with a mixture of the worst-smelling liquids 
that Roger could find in his father’s drug-store, 
and plugged the holes. 

It was quite a delicate operation to “ plant ” 
that egg. They chose a sheltered hollow which 
no one else would be likely to stumble upon, 
but which the bug-hunters could hardly miss, 
and laid several trails, imprinted with much 
scratching. In a little cavity they left their big 
egg, and went away to pray that none but the 
right people should find it. 

In fact, they watched the hollow all one day, 
to make sure that the egg fell into the proper 
hands. Prof. Distress and his assistants were at 
work that day chasing up an old trail which 
ended at a hedge fence, away over by Doverdale. 

Finally the egg was found. Lying behind some 
shrubbery, a hundred yards away, Tom and 
Roger saw the professor come upon the hollow 
and stand transfixed. They could almost hear 


DISTRESS MAKES DISCOVERY 35 


the jumble of words with which he welcomed 
the great discovery, and they knew he was 
perspiring with excitement. 

Carefully as if it had been a baby, he lifted the 
big egg. Taking off his hat, he placed the treasure 
in it and took the hat in his arms. When he led 
the way toward town, it was time for Roger and 
Tom to appear. Prof. Distress hailed them 
instantly. 

“Ah! Vitnesses! ” he shrieked. “ See you! ” 
He summoned them to look in the hat. 

“ What is it? ” asked Roger, indifferently. 

“ It ees ze egg of vat you call ze bird extinct! ” 

“ Stink? Yes, I noticed that. What you — ” 

“ Non, non ! Ze bird been — vat you call — l’in- 
connu — not known — on zis continong for long 
time — million years!” shrieked the professor. 

“ What you going to do with it? ” Tom and 
Roger seemed suitably impressed, and it never 
occurred to the Fitzpatricks, much less to the 
professor, that there was any joke afoot, much 
less that they were in it. 

“ Going to sell it, of course,” the elder Fitz- 
patrick said quickly. “ Museums pay big money 
for curiosities like that! ” 

Prof. Distress cast a contemptuous glance at 
him. 

“ It is not of ze money zat — vat you call — 
men of science think! ” he answered. “ It ees 
la gloire — vat you call honneur! ” 


36 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Rats! Who put you on to those tracks? 
Wasn’t it my brother? ” 

Prof. Distress stood still a moment and looked 
from one Fitzpatrick to the other. His lip curled. 

“ I buy ze egg from you,” he said curtly. 
44 Zen I — I gif it! ” 

44 That’ll be all right,” Jim Fitzpatrick an- 
swered. 44 All is, you know, I ain’t giving 
away my share of something that’s worth 
money! ” 

Tom and Roger exchanged significant glances. 
This was not working out just as they had planned. 
The last thing they had thought of was that the 
Fitzpatricks should get any money out of the 
professor; and somehow, though at that moment 
they did not see the way, they meant to spoil 
Jim’s little scheme. 

But Fate did that. 

Above the boat-house the bank is steep. One 
has to do a kind of scrambling run in order to 
descend it ; and the professor, with the hat 
held between his outstretched hands, could not 
pick and choose his steps. 

The Fitzpatricks were in advance. The pro- 
fessor was behind. Barely had he stepped from 
the edge when he felt himself going. But it was 
not his feet he thought of ; he was hanging to the 
hat that held the precious egg. A wild and frantic 
shriek warned his companions that he was in 
danger. 


DISTRESS MAKES DISCOVERY 37 

“I fall — ze egg — catch ! ” he cried ; and 
Jim Fitzpatrick, turning quickly, caught it. 

Not as the professor hoped. Not as Jim could 
have wished. Shooting from the hat as the 
professor stumbled, the egg took Jim in the 
forehead. Into a million pieces flew the time- 
worn shell, and the filthy contents filled his 
eyes and mouth and ran from his head to his feet. 

And it was while Jim stood sputtering and 
strangling, trying to free his face from the foul 
and odorous contents of the egg, that the pro- 
fessor’s eye fell upon a little ball which had 
lodged in Jim’s necktie. He plucked at it and 
opened it. In big red letters there flamed before 
his eyes the one word, SOLD. 

“ It ees a sold — vat you call, joke, eh? ” he 
said grimly. “ I like not solds like zis! You, 
here! ” he beckoned Fitzpatrick the younger. 

“ What you want? ” young Fitzpatrick asked 
in a surly way. Slowly and doubtfully he 
approached. 

“ Zis for you! ” the professor hissed. With 
surprising strength, and keeping his footing 
marvellously well, he gripped the two Fitz- 
patricks by the collar. Not once, but many 
times, he bumped their heads together, hard; 
and when they were both daubed with the stuff 
that was in the egg, he hurled them from him, 
and they went rolling over and over each other 
down the bank. 


CHAPTER VI 


AN UP-AND-DOWN YOUNG MAN 

The young Van Dusen’s report of his progress, 
such as it was, must have made an impression 
on the old Van Dusen. Instead of sending for 
Captain Jack to come to him a second time, he 
went to Captain Jack — stopping his auto at 
the diamond on his way home from the train, 
and waiting until an inning ended and Lorimer 
left the box. 

“ Ah, Mr. Lorimer! ” he cried. “ I was curious 
about your camping party. Have you secured 
the place? ” 

“Yes, sir. A clearing in a tract of woodland 
at Four Corners, a village about forty miles 
away. The place is sheltered, there is good water, 
all the supplies we shall need are accessible, and 
we shall have boating and swimming.” 

Mr. Van Dusen pursed his lips and looked 
thoughtful. “I’m a little afraid of the water,” 
he said. “ Boys take needless risks and — what 
regulations do you intend to make? ” 

“ In the matter of boating and swimming? 
A beginner will always have an expert with him,” 
Captain Jack answered. “ As for other regula- 
38 


AN UP-AND-DOWN MAN 39 


tions, there won’t be any,” he added with a smile, 
“ except to keep firearms and tobacco out of 
camp, and light no fires without permission.” 

Van Dusen stood off a little and stared at the 
speaker. “ You’re pretty up-and-down, young 
man,” he said reflectively. “ Generally ‘ yes ’ 
or ‘ no ’ with you, isn’t it? ” 

Lorimer laughed. “ Has to be so, sir, when 
fellows have put you in authority,” he answered. 
“ If you don’t give straight answers to straight 
questions, they haven’t much use for you. And 
when I believe I’m right, I’m not very bashful 
about saying so.” 

“ What can I do for your camp? ’’Van Dusen 
asked, changing the subject suddenly. 

“ Nothing, thank you — except to let it alone 
and keep away.” 

The millionaire frowned. But evidently he 
thought some explanation must be coming, and 
concluded to wait for it. 

“ We want to be independent and self-reliant,” 
Captain Jack said. “ We’re going off to rough it 
a little and depend on ourselves for most of the 
things we need. If we were supplied with the 
luxuries of a summer resort, and waited on all 
around, I don’t think the experience would do 
us much good, do you? 

“ Excuse me, sir,” he added hastily. “ My 
time at bat. I’ll let you know by the boy, between 
this and next week, what he’ll need to take.” 


40 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


And with that Lorimer ran over to the plate and 
rapped out a single. 

Van Dusen lingered a little, desirous to get a 
clearer idea of these lads who might be some of 
his son's associates. They didn't seem the least 
bit “ swell; ” they were noisy, and in one sense 
they were “ tough ” — that is, they stood up to 
balls that looked to him as if they might have 
come out of a cannon. But he saw no mean or 
ungentlemanly action and heard no foul or 
profane talk, and by and by he went back to his 
auto, still thoughtful, and told the chauffeur, 
“ Home.” 

About that time he was wondering what he 
could do to make things pleasant for the campers 
in spite of Captain Jack’s “ No.” He regretted 
that negative, even though he admired the lad’s 
decision and firmness. It struck him as out of 
the common and remarkable. 

And yet, just then, Captain Jack in conversation 
with Terry McGrady was showing another side 
of his character — the thoughtfulness and fair- 
mindedness that sometimes kept him from uttering 
a “ Yes ” or “ No ” offhand. 

“ It’s about that request of Mr. Horton’s, 
Terry,” he said. “ For the sake of the good he 
thinks it might do the fellow, he wants Pratt, 
that nephew of his, to go camping with us. You 
don’t like him. Neither do I. And yet the 
fellow needs a lift, and there’s a chance that if 


AN UP-AND-DOWN MAN 41 


we took him with us and used him as we use each 
other, we’d make a start toward straightening 
him out. 

“ There’s another thing to think of, and that’s 
the effect on Horton himself. He’s always made 
life a burden to the athletes of Roxbridge High, 
you know. Well, here he’s come to athletes for 
help, and, if we can help, we’ll be turning him 
around, maybe, and making things pleasanter 
for Horton’s own fellows as long as he’s head of 
the school. 

“ What are we going to say? Seems to me the 
question is a good deal of a sticker. Not that I 
couldn’t settle it if it depended on me — but 
there are the rest of you to consider.” 

“ You’d say ‘ Yes,’ I take it? ” Terry sug- 
gested. Captain Jack nodded. 

“ Say it, then! The argument that convinces 
you is good enough for the rest of us.” But 
Lorimer shook his head as if his mind was not 
yet settled. 

“ I’ll have two heart-to-heart talks first,” he 
answered, “ one with Principal Horton, the 
other with his nephew. I won’t tell them that 
we’re sacrificing ourselves to do them a kindness, 
but I shall try to make them understand that 
Nephew Charles will get a square show on con- 
dition of toeing the mark! ” 

They let the matter rest at that, for the time 
being, for suddenly Lorimer learned that there 


42 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


was need, first, of a heart-to-heart talk nearer 
home. Though there was no intention of unkind- 
ness behind the practical joke devised by Tom 
Lorimer and Roger Aheam, it had brought about 
one result that Captain Jack didn’t like and was 
bound to correct. 

“You say Prof. D’Estrees went off with the 
idea that it was the Fitzpatricks who rigged up 
the egg-shell? ” he repeated, when he got hold 
of the story — laughing in spite of himself as he 
heard the details of the elaborate plot which had 
ended with Fitz and his brother rolling down-hill. 
“ Think that’s quite fair to the Fitzpatricks? ” 

“ Aw, what do they amount to? Who cares 
about them? ” growled Tom. 

‘ Yes, I know they’re a measly pair, but that’s 
all the more reason why they should have a 
square show. From all I hear, Prof. D’Estrees is 
a scholar and a gentleman, and it’s rather a pity 
they should be driven away from a man of that 
kind through no fault of their own. How does it 
strike you? ” 

“ Say, Jack, you know they’re only sponging on 
him. They’d rob him if they got a chance! ” 
Tom argued uneasily. 

“Maybe, but, on the other hand, he might 
improve them. Why not let him find out their 
faults for himself? ’’ 

Tom took it rather sourly, but he couldn’t 
say much to the contrary, and neither could 


AN UP-AND-DOWN MAN 43 


Roger, when his chum put the case to him. How 
they finally explained and apologized to Prof. 
Distress nobody ever heard. But they did, and 
they retained his friendship, too. Probably the 
Frenchman had a sense of humour! 

Well for him if he had! Yet he could not have 
needed it more than Jack did to sustain him 
through all the interviews which luck appointed 
for the week. 

Mr. Van Dusen came again and yet again to the 
diamond, looked on solemnly, listened attentively, 
and asked rather foolish questions. He meant 
well, and Lorimer contrived to extract some quiet 
amusement from the questions. 

Then Captain Jack went to Roxbridge, talked 
with Principal Horton and Nephew Charles 
Pratt — and got from them a “yes ” to every- 
thing he said. Here it was the everlasting “ yes ” 
that he found amusing. But he did not say so. 
He was bound they should understand that he 
was in earnest, and, though he was agreeable, 
he was firm. 

“ Charles will fix his own place with us,” he said 
to Mr. Horton. “If he takes things pleasantly, 
doesn’t try to dodge his share of the dirty work, 
obeys the few rules that will bind all of us — 
in short, plays fair — * he’ll make friends and 
have a good time. If he lies or skulks or tries 
to take advantage — well, he won’t, that’s all! ” 
And Horton agreed that that was right and just. 


44 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Glad to have you with us, Charles,” Captain 
Jack said to the boy himself. “ Most of us will be 
strangers to you, but you’ll get along and be 
popular if you’ll just be good-natured and hold 
your end up — take the hard work with the fun, 
and mind the rules you don’t like, as well as 
those you do! ” And Charles said he would do 
just as Captain Jack advised; and he seemed to 
mean it. 

Thus, before anybody quite realized how time 
was flying, the hours and the days had slipped 
away and the Millvale fellows with their two 
queer guests were starting for Four Comers. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE SONG THAT TOUCHED HIS TEMPER 

“ Jeff, you’re a wonder,” cried Captain Jack- 
Somewhat in advance of a score of other boys, 
he and Bussey stood at the end of the wood-road 
overlooking the camp-site they had chosen the 
week before. But now it was more than a camp- 
site; it was a camp, with tents pitched, trenches 
cut, everything ready; and Jeff had done it all! 

“ A wonder, to get under, Jeff is,” Terry added 
with that odd, nose- wrinkling smile that his 
friends knew so well. “ Sure he’s been getting 
under, this time, and lifted the worst load of work 
the crowd had to face.” 

“ Move he be exempted from the daily draw- 
ings!” shouted Ned Harriott, and everybody 
roared approval. But Jeff, who had met his 
friends at the Junction and who had said not a 
word about the surprise arranged for them, was 
now surprised in his turn, and Captain Jack 
hastened to explain Ned’s meaning. 

“ We planned to draw lots every night for a 
captain to have charge of everything — meals 
included — on the following day,” he said. “ Cap- 
45 


46 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


tain will choose two assistants, and if extra work 
turns up, he’ll have the right to call on anybody 
else to help. But he’ll be held responsible for the 
housework, and if his cookery poisons us or he 
lets the tents blow down on us, there’ll be 
ructions! ” 

“ Say, you can’t leave me out o’ that,” Jeff 
expostulated. “ Chances are, I’m the only cook 
in the bunch, and I ought to have a chance to 
show ye! ” 

“ Three cheers for Jeff Bussey! ” called Will 
Chapin. And following the tribute due to Jeff’s 
generous good-fellowship, came cheers for Bus- 
sey’s Woods, Four Comers, Millvale, and half a 
dozen other persons and things. For it was still 
early afternoon, with hours of the beautiful day 
yet to be spent in this beautiful place, and Jeff’s 
forethought had left the boys little to do but 
cheer — and amuse themselves. 

And when it seemed that the yelling was over, 
Jeff started it up again. 

“ Guess we’d better do some hollerin’ for Mr. 
Van Dusen,” he remarked dryly. “ He’s saved 
us the meanest job of all — and that’s the dish- 
washin’.” He waved his hand toward a big 
packing-case that had already been the object 
of curious glances, and then, lifting the cover, 
displayed its contents. 

“Wooden plates!” he chuckled. “Use ’em 
and then bum ’em. Must be many as four or 


THE SONG TOUCHED TEMPER 47 


five gross here. Have a clean plate every meal, 
and no fussin’ afterward about who’s goin’ to 
put his hands in dish-water. Tell you, I feel 
mighty thankful to Mr. Van Dusen. Guess he’s 
been where they didn’t have hired girls, himself.” 

Probably everybody except Van Dusen ’s son 
understood Jeff’s meaning. But young Will, 
who had been looking pleased, took the words 
the wrong way, and his thin, sharp face grew dark. 

“ I want you to understand, you fellow, that 
my father has a full staff of servants! ” he said. 
“ I require you to apologize for your insolence 
at once! ” 

“ Hey? Who trod on the little cock-sparrow’s 
tail? ” asked Jeff, in sheer bewilderment. But 
Captain Jack smiled at the irate small boy and 
corrected his mistake. 

“ All right, Will,” he said. “ Our friend Mr. 
Bussey was merely suggesting that your father 
has been in men’s camping parties, where the 
campers had to do their own work.” 

“ Oh! ” The small aristocrat had to believe it, 
because Captain Jack said it. But from time to 
time, for the rest of the day, he cast suspicious 
glances at Jeff. 

Most of the fellows were different in many 
respects from the boys Will* Van Dusen had 
known, but Bussey was the oddest of the lot. 
There were times when he had the speech and 
manners of a gentleman ; there were other times 


48 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


when he talked like a clodhopper, and both styles 
of behaviour seemed natural to him ! This set the 
boy thinking of detective stories he had read. He 
made up his mind to watch Bussey ! 

Never dreaming he was under such inspection, 
Jeff busied himself in “ fixing things.” One of 
the articles each fellow had brought from home 
was a kind of empty mattress, an oblong bag of 
ticking, and these had to be filled with straw 
from a big load sent over from the farm. Jeff 
did more than his share of that work, and then 
he set up the oil stoves that were to be used for 
cooking, and hunted out a cleft in the ledge, at a 
safe distance, wherein to keep the supply of oil. 
Mysteriously summoning January, when these 
chores were done, the two armed themselves 
with tin pails and left the camp. 

Later on it proved that they had gone after 
wild strawberries. “ Didn’t get a mess, but 
there’s enough so everybody can have a taste,” 
was Jeff’s modest report of results. 

January was not so modest, and his eyes 
sparkled as he looked over the table that was 
being set in the big dining-tent. To give the 
campers a fair start, their mothers had volunteered 
to contribute cooked food “ for the first day,” 
getting together under Mrs. Harriott’s leadership 
and filling two boxes. The boxes had just been 
opened. Anybody might have known that 
mothers packed them, for they contained almost 


THE SONG TOUCHED TEMPER 49 


everything good to eat, from a boiled ham to a 
jar of jelly, and as for quantity — ! 

“ It’s a bloomink banquet we’re a-going to 
’ave, what? ” January cried. 

“ Tis not the first day, but the next year, the 
ladies were planning for,” Terry commented. 
“I’m thinking the lucky lad who is captain to- 
morrow will have no cooking to do — he’ll just 
draw on the resources of the establishment.” 

“ Pity we didn’t realize what we had,” sug- 
gested Captain Jack. “We might have asked 
Harry Lee and a lot of the fellows over to-night 
to help us out.” But at that Jeff shook his 
head. 

“ Doubt if you’d ’a’ got ’em,” he said. “ I 
know they talked it all over and agreed that it 
wouldn’t be fair to come around the camp until 
we’d had time to sort o’ settle down. First day 
or two, there’s always work turning up that 
nobody expected, and it’s no fun to entertain 
company. You know Josie Lee, Harry’s sister, is 
giving a lawn party for the crowd, to-morrow 
afternoon. If we can think of everything and 
get all straightened out between this and that, 
why, by day after to-morrow we’ll have call- 
ers.” 

“ Hi’m pretty peckish! ” January put in, in 
a plaintive tone. “ Hi could eat most of what’s 
hon that table meself, ye know! ” So they 
laughed, stopped talking, and took pity on the 


50 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


fat boy. Horace White grabbed a tin pan and 
began to thump it lustily. 

“ Supper! Come to supper! ” he yelled. “ Jan- 
uary’s hungry! ” 

To others besides January that first meal in 
camp tasted better than any they had eaten in a 
long time. Fancy dishes fixed up by the Van 
Dusens’ French cook were not to be compared, 
young Will thought, with this plain and whole- 
some food provided by the mothers. And Charles 
Pratt, the Roxbridge boy, fairly ate colour into 
his sallow cheeks. 

These two made a long jump toward popularity, 
a little later, when they offered to help clear 
up. To be sure there wasn’t much to be washed 
but knives and forks and spoons — thanks to 
Mr. Van Dusen’s gift of wooden plates — but 
willingness to do one’s part counts for a good deal 
in camp, and Will and Charles were applauded 
almost as liberally as Jeff had been when he 
refused to be released from his turn of duty. 

Thus, with good feeling all around, the crowd 
entered on the first evening. Nobody wanted to 
write or read, so they folded up the table, hung 
some lanterns on the centre-pole of the dining- 
tent, and, sprawling on the grassy floor, began 
to sing. 

In strict truthfulness it can scarcely be declared 
that the singing was melodious. Terry’s share 
of it was, and there were three or four other fellows 


THE SONG TOUCHED TEMPER 51 


who did no violence to the music, but they all 
sang, and probably the general effect was more 
cheerful than sweet. 

“ I reckon they’re ringing the riot call in Mill- 
vale! ” Sewall Ford muttered to his next neighbour 
when that tremendous bass of January’s boomed 
in the chorus. It drowned Terry’s bell-like tenor 
and Captain Jack’s clear baritone, and Charles 
Pratt gasped at the thought of the lungs that 
must be back of it. 

So did other folks, it seemed. Nearer home it 
was ringing a riot call. They were on the third 
song, though, with the fat boy roaring like a 
wild bull, before some of the fellows suddenly 
noticed that a lean and grizzled old man was 
standing at the door of the tent and viewing them 
with a very unfriendly eye. 

“ Hello, Mr. Peabody, what can I do for you? ” 
cried Jeff, as the song came to an end. 

The old man took a step forward and waved 
his hand to include the company. 

“You can close y’r mouths and give hard- 
workin’ folks a chance to go to sleep! ” he said. 


CHAPTER VIII 


CIGARETTES AND COFFEE SHUT OUT 

Some of the fellows chuckled, but nobody 
spoke. They were waiting for Jeff, and he did 
not fail them. 

“ Your house is pretty nearly a mile away, 
Mr. Peabody,” he said mildly. “You mean to 
tell me that you can hear our music ’way over 
there? ” 

“ Music! ” the old fellow snarled. “ I can hear 
your tom-fool bellerin’ about as plain as if it 
was in my own front yard! ” 

“ Guess we must have been havin’ a good 
time! ” Jeff said to his companions. Then he 
turned to the old farmer again. 

“ It’s only 8 o’clock,” he suggested. “ Must 
have been quarter of 8, when you started to come 
over here. That past your bedtime? ” 

“ Never you mind whether it is or ’tain’t! ” 
growled the visitor. “ All is, I ain’t goin’ to have 
any such rackety goin’s-on anywhere nigh me! ” 

“ Oh, you ain’t? ” 

“ No, I ain’t! ” 

“ Now, I’ll just tell you, Mr. Peabody,” Jeff 


CIGARETTES SHUT OUT 53 


began in his gentlest voice. “ Bedtime here is 
9 o’clock. In the evenings, or in the daytime, 
either, we don’t mean to do anything any rea- 
sonable man could object to; but we don’t feel 
bound to knuckle to the people who just hate to 
see other people enjoy themselves. Understand? 
This camp’s on my land. It’s utterly impossible 
that any sounds we might make should disturb 
anybody at your place — anybody who isn’t 
trying to be disturbed, I mean. So we’re going 
to keep on singing! 

“ Strike her up, Terry! ” Jeff added. And 
Terry swung into a minstrel song, with six or 
seven fellows to accompany him, and everybody 
coming in on a chorus that almost bulged the top 
of the tent. 

The cranky caller was speechless at first, as 
if the discovery that he couldn’t browbeat the 
boys had shocked him into silence; and though 
by the time the chorus started he had recovered 
his voice, it didn’t do him any good. He shook 
his fist and his jaws wagged furiously, but scarcely 
a word could anybody hear. And when the 
chorus ended, and Terry, grinning roguishly, 
waved his hand as a signal to repeat it, old Pea- 
body turned and rushed from the tent. 

“ Jared’s always hunting a fuss with some- 
body,” Jeff remarked calmly, when there was 
something like silence again. “ We’ll just be 
careful to keep off his land — I’ll show you my 


54 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


western boundary to-morrow — and let him 
sweat! ” 

If that was the way it affected the old man, 
he probably perspired profusely in the course of 
the next half-hour, for the boys kept on singing. 
But in consideration for themselves, if not for 
Jared, Captain Jack summoned them to “ come 
to order ” while it was still on the right side of 
9 o’clock. 

“ Fellows in charge of tents, please slack your 
tent-ropes a little before you turn in,” he said. 
“ The dew will shrink them, you know, and if 
they’re not slacked they’re liable to pull out 
the pegs and let the tent down on top of you. 

“ And please see that everybody spreads out 
his sheet of rubber cloth before laying down his 
mattress. The ground is always more or less 
damp, and the waterproof is the best thing I 
know to keep off the dampness. 

“ January will sound the reveille to-morrow at 
6 o’clock. Chapin will be captain of the camp, 
and he has chosen Elverton and Smith as his 
assistants. I’m sure we all wish them luck, and 
stand ready to help them any way we can. Good 
night, everybody, and pleasant dreams! ” 

But though Captain Jack had “ officially ” 
closed the day of the camp, he did not at once 
make an end of his own day. He looked to his 
tent, the slacking of the ropes and the placing of 
the rubber blankets, and then he quietly struck 


CIGARETTES SHUT OUT 55 


outside the little circle of light that marked their 
canvas colony. 

There was nothing on his mind, but he felt 
nervous and restless, somehow, and he thought 
he would get out on the road for a stiff little spin 
of twenty minutes or so. He could return as 
he came, without disturbing anybody; for earlier 
in the evening he had put on his moccasins, and 
with them he sped as lightly as a shadow. 

Through the underbrush he went noiselessly; 
around to the wood-road ; thence to the highway. 
But he had not taken many strides on the main 
road before he scented an odour that seemed 
strangely out of place here, and, rounding a turn 
swiftly, he came upon Charles Pratt — smoking 
a cigarette. 

The Roxbridge boy had the grace to be ashamed. 
He tried to slip it out of sight. Captain Jack 
smiled. 

“ I’ll pretend I didn’t see that, Charles, if you’ll 
never light another! ” he said. But right there 
Pratt made a mistake. Since Lorimer took it so 
quietly, he thought there was a chance to ar- 
gue. 

“ Of course you fellows who don’t smoke are 
not giving up anything when you promise not 
to smoke,” he muttered. “ But if I smoke at 
home I don’t know any reason why I shouldn’t 
do it in camp; do you? ” 

“ That’s easily answered. You shouldn’t smoke 


56 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


at home. You have still less right to smoke in a 
training camp, such as this practically is.” 

“Oh, yes, it’s easy to talk about leaving off! ” 
Pratt grumbled. 

“ And a hard thing to do, you think? I don’t 
doubt that. But we had a clear understanding, 
you remember, — no tobacco to be brought here, — 
and I must hold you to it.” 

“ Don’t see why you’re so down on cigarettes! ” 
was Pratt’s next feeble attempt at defence. 

“ Nonsense, Charles! You do see! If you’d 
be frank about it, you’d put up a better argument 
against them than I could. But that isn’t the 
point at present. We campers have agreed not 
to do certain things, and as gentlemen we must 
keep our word with each other. Of course you 
realize that, and you’re sorry for making this 
break and determined not to repeat it.” 

“ All right.” Pratt’s voice was pretty sour, 
but Lorimer believed in trusting everybody up 
to the last minute, and he put out his hand as 
if the matter was settled. 

“ Good boy! ” he cried. “ What say, now, if 
we go back and turn in? January will be blowing 
his horn at 6 sharp, and if it’s a fine morning and 
he feels restless, he may turn loose before 
that! 

“ See here, Charles,” he added seriously, when 
they had taken a few steps toward camp, “ don’t 
get the idea I like to preach! I have my own 


CIGARETTES SHUT OUT 57 


weaknesses to fight — for one thing, the worst 
temper that ever was stowed inside a fellow’s 
skin — and I’m holding on to myself with both 
hands all the time. I know how hard it is to 
keep straight. I’m not setting myself an inch 
above other fellows. And if I can help you any, 
sing out! ” 

“ All right,” Pratt said once more. How much 
this meant, whether it would be all right or not, 
Jack couldn’t tell. That was for time to show. 

But before anything more had a chance to 
happen in that quarter, the young Van Dusen 
came forward with a pet habit to be knocked on 
the head. And this was the way of it: 

January’s horn roused the camp to a fine morn- 
ing, and Captain Jack put the Van Dusen boy 
through a deep-breathing exercise, led him a 
sprint to the river, and gave him a lesson in 
swimming. Then they came back to the first 
meal under Will Chapin’s direction, and the 
young fellow seated himself and stared ravenously 
over the table. 

“ What else have you, please? ” he said to 
Archie Smith, who was acting as one of the 
waiters. 

‘‘We’re not cooking anything much for break- 
fast, except two cereal foods, an oatmeal and a 
wheat,” Archie answered. “ Give you boiled 
eggs or buttered toast, though.” 

“ Well, boiled eggs and toast and coffee, please.” 


58 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Archie smiled. “ No coffee or tea in the camp,” 
he said. 

“ Coffee is half my breakfast! ” the boy growled 
discontentedly. 

“ Guess you’ll have to get along with the other 
half, then,” Archie chuckled. 

But young Van Dusen wouldn’t submit to that 
without a struggle. He dropped his paper napkin 
and made his way along the table to Captain Jack, 
who was beginning his breakfast with an orange, 
which he meant to follow with a saucer of cereal 
and cream and a slice of buttered toast. 

“ Say, Mr. Lorimer, why can’t I have coffee 
for breakfast, as I’ve always had? ” he demanded. 

“ For the same reason that you can’t have 
iced tea and cigarettes at luncheon, a cocktail 
before dinner, a cigar after dinner, and a toddy 
to go to bed on,” Captain Jack answered smilingly. 
“ Because you don’t need any of them and they’ll 
do you harm.” 

“ My father takes all those things, when he 
feels like it! ” 

“I’m not criticizing your father, Will, — and 
when you get to his age I’ll agree not to interfere 
with you,” Jack added with another smile. 
“ Possibly a man of sixty needs a stimulant. A 
growing boy doesn’t. Glance around the table. 
Think we look as though we’d suffered by avoiding 
such things? ” 

In the presence of those sturdy figures, the 


CIGARETTES SHUT OUT 59 


boy couldn’t say yes. He wanted to look like 
that ! 

“ We’ll talk this all over by and by, Will,” 
Captain Jack said. “ Meantime, if you’ve been 
accustomed to drink and feel as if you couldn’t 
get your food down without it, you might break- 
fast on a pint of milk and two bananas. Mind, 
though, milk is food, and you want to chew it! 

“Yes,” he went on, as the boy laughed, “ I 
mean that. Don’t gulp your milk. Take a little 
at a time; and rinse it around your mouth a 
second before you swallow it. I suspect you’ve 
got to be taught to eat, my son! Your father’ll 
laugh, won’t he, if you tell him that? He’ll 
understand, though, when he sees you growing — 
up and down and sideways! ” 

That pleasing picture put the thought of coffee 
out of the boy’s mind. He went back to his seat 
and cheerfully began to eat milk. 


CHAPTER IX 


AT THE LAWN -PARTY, AND AFTERWARD 

One reason why Captain Jack and his comrades 
welcomed Jeff Bussey’s proposition to camp at 
Four Comers, was that through Jeff they had 
made many friends in the town. During the 
previous football season, Millvale High had 
played the Four Comers “ Indians,” and since 
then Harry Lee, the captain of the team, had 
visited Millvale several times, as Lorimer’s guest, 
and between the country boys who were nothing 
like “ jays ” and the city boys who had nothing 
in common with “ toughs,” there was very 
cordial good-will. 

It was Harry Lee’s sister, Josie, who was 
giving the lawn -party to the campers; and, every 
time he looked at her or talked to her, Captain 
Jack felt like admitting that, if there had been 
no May Roxton in Millvale, he would have liked 
to live at Four Comers. 

“ Yes, Jo’s a fine girl, if I do say it,” Harry 
responded when Lorimer laughingly hinted as 
much. “ You just come over here, though, and 
let me introduce you to another, Nan Knowlton. 

60 


AT THE LAWN PARTY 61 


We’re in luck that there isn’t a crowd around, 
I tell you! ” 

Miss Knowlton was a vivid little brunette, as 
graceful as a flower and as gay as a bird, and 
Lorimer found it easy to understand his friend’s 
admiration for her. 

“ And she’s no doll, either, if she is a little 
one! ” Harry found a chance to whisper. “ I 
don’t believe there’s a better fencer in this end 
of the State — and you just ought to see her 
handle some of her father’s blooded horses! By 
jove, she takes out brutes that I wouldn’t want 
to drive! ” 

“ She’s a very charming girl, Harry,” Captain 
Jack said in all sincerity. 

“ Oh, we’ve got a few of ’em. I’ll have to admit 
that Millvale rather beats us for quantity. But 
then, Mill vale’s a bigger place!” They both 
laughed. 

“ Have to introduce Terry and Ned Harriott,” 
Lorimer suggested. “ Rose Aheam and Clare 
Bell are our star fencers, you know, so their friends 
Terry and Ned have a second-hand knowledge of 
the art. 

“ But, speaking of introductions,” Lorimer went 
on, “ you must find me a boy of eleven or twelve 
to do the honours for Will Van Dusen, the young 
fellow I’m — ” 

“ Oh, my brother Ralph has already connected 
with him. They’re- having a party without any 


62 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


lawn in it. They were irr the bam, doing stunts 
over the beams, the last I knew. May as well 
let 'em alone. They're as safe there as they 
would be anywhere. A fellow of that age is 
bound to risk his life about once an hour, wherever 
you leave him." 

They summoned Terry and Ned and put them 
under the spell of the dark-eyed girl who queened 
it over Harry, and then they walked from group 
to group, reviving old and making new friend- 
ships. Finally as Josie Lee joined them, they 
stopped to watch a half-dozen couples who were 
waltzing to January Jones’s “ music." 

“ I see January’s training like a major," Harry 
said soberly, with a wink aside to Captain Jack. 
“ Good deal thinner than he was. Aren’t you, 
January? " 

“ Ho yus, thank ye, sir, Hi ham, sir! " January 
responded gayly. He held out the long tin 
whistle he used for camp calls, and with which 
he had been “ playing ” for the dancers. 

“ See ’ere! " he went on. “ Three or four 
months ago, Hi couldn’t shove this hinside me 
waistband without ’urting meself — but when 
Hi stick it there now it drops right down me 
pants leg! ’’ 

Josie turned her head to hide a smile. 

“ Just wait till next week — till you see Lou 
Mains put January through some stunts! ’’ Cap- 
tain Jack told her. “ If you don’t say there’s a 


AT THE LAWN PARTY 63 


coming athlete, I miss my guess! ” The fat boy 
coloured high with pride. 

“ Mains will join you next week, then? ” Harry 
said. “ That’s good new^s! But where’s Tom 
Bell? And Phil Kavanagh’s at work, you say? 
Mighty glad Mains is coming, anyway! ” 

“ Yes, Lou promised to get down for two or 
three days at least. There’s no reason I can see 
why he shouldn’t give his blessed law books a 
rest and stay a w T eek, but I don’t know who can 
persuade him to do it — unless Miss Josie takes 
a hand! As for Tom, he had to go to New York; 
and Phil’s in business, on the way to make his 
fortune, I hope! 

“ Hello, Will! What have you been up to? ” 
he added suddenly, as Will Van Dusen approached 
with Ralph Lee, the younger brother. “ I can see 
you boys have been in mischief. Better confess ! ’ ’ 
It was Ralph who answered. 

“ No, sir-ree, no mischief about it! ” he cried. 
“Will did a big thing! Fell off a beam — caught 
a ladder as he went down — stopped himself, 
and hung by his hands till he could get his feet on 
the rungs ! I wouldn ’t want to try that, you bet ! ’ ’ 
“ Let me see your hands, Will,” Josie inter- 
rupted. “Oh, you poor boy! You scraped your 
wrists dreadfully, didn’t you? Now you must 
come in with me and let me tie them up — else 
I won’t give you and Ralph any ice-cream! ” 

“ Quite a stunt for a small boy,” Harry sug- 


64 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


gested, as his sister led Will away, her arm 
across his shoulder. 

“ He’s a rather remarkable boy,” was Captain 
Jack’s answer. “ Quick as a flash. Rather 
surprises me, though, that he should have the 
strength to check himself like that, and then 
hold on.” 

“Oh, he’s pretty strong,” young Ralph com- 
mented, shaking his head wisely. “ He says he’s 
a heap stronger than he was when he went into 
training.” 

Naturally the older fellows laughed. The 
Van Dusen boy had been “ in training,” partial 
at that, for just about a week! 

“ Speaking about training, it’s a pretty clean- 
cut crowd, Harry,” Captain Jack suggested, as 
his eyes wandered thoughtfully over the lawn. 

“ That’s what it is! And it’s training that has 
made it so! I haven’t any doubt your club and 
gym are making straight, square fellows out of 
fellows that might have been hoodlums — and 
I know, when we started in to brace ourselves, a 
lot of us were on the point of turning into regular 
country slouches. It takes time and work to get 
the stoop out of your shoulders and the kinks out 
of your muscles, and then keep clean inside and 
out; but it’s worth it! And when a fellow’s 
sound physically, he’s pretty sure to be a fellow 
you can count on — one that won’t go back on 
you or serve you a dirty trick! ” 


AT THE LAWN PARTY 65 


That was pretty nearly Lorimer’s own idea. 
And it was mainly because the trouble-makers 
were not “ sound physically ” — which meant in 
this case that their nerves and their imaginations 
were not under control — that he dealt charitably 
and quietly with a little trouble that arose that 
same evening. 

The lawn-party, a triumphant success, had 
been three hours over. Supper was over, too, 
and Horace White had been drawn as captain 
for next day and had named Sewall Ford and 
Will Reed as his assistants. Two or three of the 
fellows were writing letters, as many more were 
reading, and the others were lying about in little 
groups discussing the events of the afternoon and 
making plans for the morrow — when Captain 
Jack, taking one of his tours around camp, came 
suddenly on Charles Pratt and Will Van Dusen, 
with their heads together in a way that foreboded 
mischief. 

“ Hello, boys, anything wrong? ” he said, 
throwing himself down, uninvited, on the ground 
beside them. There was a moment of silence. 

“ The fact is, we were talking of going home in 
the morning,” Will Van Dusen said sourly. 

“ Yes? What’s the trouble? ” 

“ Well, I think if I’m not on the inside I might 
as well be on the outside! ” was the boy’s excited 
answer. ‘ ‘ When you fellows started back from the 
lawn-party, you wouldn’t let me come with you! ” 


66 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Captain Jack smiled into his angry eyes. 

“You knew how we came back,” Lorimer 
answered. “ It’s two miles and a little more from 
Lee’s to the head of the wood-road, and eighteen 
of us ran — raced. I told Sandy Carr to stay 
behind because he twisted his ankle on the way 
over, and I wouldn’t have you and Pratt and 
January join us because the pace would have been 
too hot for you. 

“ To narrow it down to you, a two-mile run 
on a hot afternoon might do you serious harm, 
and at the present time I wouldn’t let you take 
it. It would be just about as absurd and dan- 
gerous for you to try to imitate us who have been 
in training for years, as it would be for your 
father’s office boy to undertake to run his busi- 
ness.’’ 

Van Dusen didn’t say anything, but Pratt 
chuckled. Captain Jack turned to him. 

“ What’s your grievance, Charles? ” he asked. 

“Well — I’ve been rather out of it, as you 
might say — here, and at the lawn-party — 
there especially,” Pratt answered in a hesitating 
way. “ It makes things pretty slow, you know, 
and — well, not what I’ve been used to! ” 

This was the kind of poor excuse that is some- 
times better than none — but not much. Of 
course there was a lot behind, the stoppage of his 
cigarettes, for instance. Yet Lorimer took it 
with perfect gravity, as though it was a real reason. 


AT THE LAWN PARTY 67 


“ You’re like Will,” was his smiling rejoinder. 
“ You’re out of it, or feel so, because you’re not 
in training — that is, you’re tackling new experi- 
ences. As for the lawn-party, though, you made 
a hit. I didn’t mean to speak of it, just yet, but 
I was told to bring you two, nobody else, over 
to Lee’s to tea, day after to-morrow.” 

He did not say that he had asked for the invi- 
tation, on their account, and, as they got it, it 
was good medicine. Pratt’s face flushed with 
delight. 

“ Why, is that so? ” he said. “ That’s bully! ” 
Van Dusen was almost as much pleased. 

“You fellows will feel better in the morning,” 
Lorimer added lightly. “ Night, away from 
home, is a lonesome time. Of course you can’t 
expect to get much fun out of anything unless 
you give yourselves a chance to get used to it. 
Just wait a few days, till you begin to brace 
physically and get acquainted with Lee’s and our 
own crowd, and nobody could drive you away! ” 

But, though Captain Jack didn’t anticipate 
anything of the kind, it was not impossible that 
somebody would try! 


CHAPTER X 


THE RACKETY ROAD UP THE LEDGE 

Knowing Horace White so well as he did, the 
restless energy of him, his anxiety to be always 
undertaking some new thing, Lorimer looked 
forward with interest to the day of his reign. 
That would be only the third day of the camp 
and most of the fellows had hardly found out yet 
“ where they were at.” But it was pretty safe 
to conclude that Horace had learned his ground 
well enough to be reminded of some scheme 
which he would suggest before the day was over. 

“ And I hope,” Jack said to himself, “ that it’s 
a good big scheme, something that will keep 
everybody jumping for a few days and leave me 
no time or occasion to find fault with anybody! ” 
When he recalled the way he had had to hand out 
instruction and advice to Pratt, Van Dusen and 
others, he gritted his teeth; for, like every other 
healthy-minded fellow, he didn’t relish the idea 
of “ preaching,” and didn’t want to figure as one 
who sets himself up above others. 

He had his wish. Horace was ready with the 
68 


THE RACKETY ROAD 


69 


scheme, and offered it at the breakfast-table, 
even before he ate his own breakfast. 

“ Say, fellows,” he began excitedly, “ why 
can’t we do something useful while we’re here, 
something for Jeff to remember us by? ” 

Everybody nodded, smiled and showed willing- 
ness to listen. 

“ There’s this big ledge,” Horace went on, 
“ three hundred feet or so high, beautiful outlook 
from it, but it’s mighty hard to scramble up, you 
know, and on the opposite side it’s a sheer drop. 
Well, why shouldn’t we clear a winding path 
wide enough for two? Then we can set up a 
flag-pole at the top, and fly our flag while we 
stay here! ” 

Jeff grinned into his plate. The notion that a 
path up the ledge, a piece of private property 
where nobody ever wanted to go, would be 
“ useful,” amused him immensely. However, if 
the boys thought they could get some fun out of 
it, it would be all right. He waited cheerfully to 
hear from others. 

“ ’Tis in my mind that if we want to do some- 
thing really useful, we might give Uncle Isaiah 
Bussey and the hired men a lift at their hoeing,” 
Terry commented with a grin. “Oh, but I’m 
not denying that carrying rocks and cutting 
brush is good exercise, Horace! Let Jeff sign 
a written agreement that he won’t prosecute 
me for trespass, and I’m game to tackle the ledge.” 


70 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Horace's scheme will give us good practice in 
engineering and road-building,” Jack suggested 
quietly. “Jeff might not use his new road very 
often, but it would be valuable to him because 
his friends built it.” 

“Yes, and we’d have something to tinker at — 
something to do besides just sport around,” 
Horace said eagerly. “ Work that’s a different 
kind of fun, you know.” 

“ Lay out your road, Horace, and choose your 
first gang of builders,” Ned Harriott cried. “ Say 
you make the working day eight hours, put four 
or five men in a gang, and have each of the four 
gangs work two hours a day. That leaves every- 
body plenty of time for milder amusements.” 

“ Say, who’s doing this, you or me? ” growled 
White. But when it came to the point of “ doing 
this,” it was Ned’s plan that was adopted with 
very few changes, and Ned was honoured with 
the foremanship of the first gang which, under 
Horace’s direction, began the road-building that 
very afternoon. 

By the straightest way to the top — a way 
that it would have been almost impossible to 
climb — the ledge was, as Horace had said, 
almost three hundred feet high. The winding 
path that he marked out would be about one 
hundred and fifty yards in length. 

For a great part of the way a hatchet, a sickle 
and a rake were the only tools that would be 


THE RACKETY ROAD 


71 


needed. Small stones could be laid at the side of 
the path. Larger stones, that would not look 
as though they belonged there, could be carried 
to the foot of the ledge, and dropped into one 
of the clefts. 

But there were two places where, as planned 
by Horace, the new path would lead up to enor- 
mous boulders; and, when they saw that, the 
fellows tapped their foreheads and grinned at him 
significantly. 

“ Poor boy! So young and so foolish! ” said 
Terry. 

“ When you come to these you do a running 
high jump. Eh, Horace? ” suggested Elverton. 

“ Wrong! There’ll be several pairs of wings 
stored here in a little closet under the edge of the 
rock — won’t there, Horace? ” Chapin asked. 

“Oh, you fellows are smart! ” White growled. 
“ On each side of this rock is the only patch of 
mountain laurel I’ve seen anywhere around. 
What’s the matter with saving that, hey? And 
flanking that upper rock are half a dozen out- 
crops, natural shelves, large enough to stand or 
sit or lie down on — just the stopping-places 
there ought to be, half-way up in a climb like 
this! ” 

“ Right, Horace,” agreed Jack, “ But how are 
you going to get the path over the rocks? ” 

“ Well, why not drill ’em and blast ’em? ” 

“ Blast ’em! So say I ! ” Janvrin put in. “ Any 


72 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


of you fellows ever held a drill? Well, I have. 
I call it pretty tame amusement! ” 

“You can take the first turn, Matt, since you 
know how, and show the other fellows,” chuckled 
White. 

“ Well, seeing it’s you — bring on your tools! ” 
But here White had to admit that he was un- 
provided. 

“ I got a can of blasting powder, though, when 
I went to the store this morning,” he added 
proudly. 

“ Guess Uncle Isaiah’s got drills and sledges,” 
Jeff suggested. “ I’ll take a run over and see. 
Strikes me you better do your blasting first of 
anything, if you’re going to do it at all. Because, 
if you don’t, the path below the rocks you’ve 
blasted will have to be cleared out twice.” 

“ That’s so, Jeff! Skip along and get the drills, 
will you? ” 

Horace was full of business, now, and though 
the other fellows did not share his excitement, 
they were interested, and, both to please him 
and for the sake of the game, ready and willing 
to help. To the impatience of some, it seemed a 
long time, though actually it was a short one, 
before Jeff returned with a half-dozen drills and 
a sledge. 

A dozen fellows climbed to the upper rock and 
Matt sat down at the point Horace indicated 
and took the drill between his palms, prepared 


THE RACKETY ROAD 73 

to give it a turn in the hole it made, after every 
blow. 

“You going to strike, Horace? ” he asked. 
“ Well, you remember, you and me and the 
sledge and the drill are alone in the world, and 
all you’ve got to think of is hitting that drill on 
the head and not letting the hammer slip! ’’ 

The other fellows backed off to a safe distance, 
perching in the easiest attitudes they could upon 
the almost perpendicular face of the ledge, and 
Horace began. 

To swing a sledge is no such difficult accomplish- 
ment, provided one has the strength to handle the 
tool, and Horace soon mastered it and relieved 
Matt of the fear of losing a hand or a wrist. 
Holding the drill is really quite as much of an 
art, but with careful watching and a little practice 
the fellows “ got the hang ” of that; and though 
Horace wanted to keep on and do it all, the others 
insisted on taking their turn, and the drill ate 
fast into the rock. 

“ Supper time,” said Horace at length, pausing 
in his second turn to wipe his forehead. 

“ Let’s load her up and touch her off before 
we quit! ” somebody cried. 

“Well, what say? If the rest of you want to 
do it, you be swabbing out the hole and I’ll 
climb down and get the powder and fuse.” 

“ Go on,” nodded Jack. He was as curious as 
the rest, to see what that single charge would lift. 


74 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Know how to load, Horace? ’’Jeff asked, as 
their companion scrambled back with his sinister 
armful. 

“ No, Matt’s going to do that. I’ll touch her 
off. Rest of you better be hunting cover.” And 
a moment later they began to edge away toward 
the scant clusters of shrubbery. 

“ There’s your crank neighbour, the old fellow 
who doesn’t like music, snooping around the 
tents,” called Will Chapin to Jeff, as he chanced 
to look below. “ Say, he’s dressed up. Got his 
plug hat and all the fixin’s. What say if we give 
him a song? ” 

Old Jared Peabody was rather an awe-inspiring 
spectacle, even as seen from a distance. He wore 
his Sunday clothes, and the ancient bell-top 
beaver that crowned his lanky form made him look 
about nine feet high. Jeff grinned, and yet he felt 
sour, for he knew what all this extra display meant. 

“ He’s come hunting trouble,” he muttered. 
“ Wonder what we’ve been doing — or haven’t 
been doing — now? ” 

There was no one in the tents. Old Jared found 
that out, after a little prowling around. He dis- 
covered, too, that the fellows were up on the 
ledge; and, standing at the foot, he began ges- 
ticulating fiercely. 

“ Ready? ” cried Horace at that moment. 
“ Lie close! Here she goes! ” He lit the fuse 
and bounded toward the refuge he had chosen. 


THE RACKETY ROAD 


75 


A moment of expectation, and then — 

Crash! Bang! It seemed at first that the 
ledge itself had gone into the air. But when the 
fellows got their heads clear and ran toward their 
rock, they found that the blast had simply done 
the work they hoped. A second one, a foot lower, 
would open the path. 

“ Good engineering! ” cried Jack. 

“ Say, look below there! ” somebody cried. 

It was old Jared at whom he pointed. Not 
standing proudly and gesturing furiously, was 
old Jared, now. He was sitting, facing the ledge, 
where the shock had evidently thrown him. But 
his eyes were turned where theirs followed — 
to the bell-top beaver, that had been swept off 
his head by a flying splinter of rock, and pinned 
half-way up the side of the nearest tent. 


CHAPTER XI 


SMOKE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD 

Old Jared couldn’t tell, at first, what he had 
come after. He goggled and whimpered and 
rubbed his head like a man completely upset. 
But finally it turned out that he wanted to 
protest against being “ spied on ” from the top 
of the ledge! 

“ You’re trespassin’, same as, when you go 
up there to look over my place,” he complained. 
‘‘You ain’t got any right, nuther, to slambang 
around and throw rocks on people and bust their 
property! You stay down from there and keep 
still, or I’ll — I’ll prosecute ye! ” 

It was charitable to conclude that the old man 
had been dazed by the fright and didn’t really 
know what he was saying. They let him sputter, 
listened respectfully and made no answer, and 
after awhile he pulled the splinter of rock out of 
his hat, put the rock carefully in his pocket and 
set the hat on his head, and stalked out of camp. 

‘‘Crazy!” Terry declared. ‘‘Sure any man 
must be who doesn’t admire the engineering of 
Mr. Horace White, P. M., R. B.” 

76 


SMOKE BY THE ROAD 77 


“ Hey? What’s that? ” Horace yelled. 

“ P. M. for Path-Maker, R. B. for Rock-Buster,” 
Terry answered calmly. “ ’Tis you should be 
proud of the degrees I’ve conferred upon you! 
They’re worth more than many a M. A., Master 
of Arts, — because they’re true! ” 

“ See here, fellows, I think we ought to give 
Horace a fair chance at this,” Lorimer suggested. 
“ Why not appoint him camp captain for to- 
morrow again? We can give him extra help with 
the cooking and chores and let him ‘ sling ’ 
himself on his road and get the full credit 
of it.” 

“ Good work! Hooray! ” yelled Sewall Ford, 
White’s chum. But he was not alone in his 
approval. Everybody else applauded, and 
Horace’s feelings were not hurt when Terry 
looked over and grinned at him, and remarked: 

“ ’Tis queer, though, that a lad of his natural 
cleverness should be such a poisonous cook! ” 

Then Horace rose to the emergency. 

“ See here, Terry,” he called across the table, 
“ you’ll have charge of three meals to-morrow! 
Understand? ” And Terry fell off his camp- 
chair, like one stricken, and rolled on the ground, 
groaning heavily. 

There seemed some danger, that night, that 
Horace would get up in his sleep and go to road- 
building. He and Sewall spent most of the evening 
climbing around the ledge, and came down 


78 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


unwillingly to make the 9 o’clock “ round-up.” 
However, they agreed to rise early and start work. 

“ Because there’s wet weather coming,” Horace 
said. “ I can smetl it! Don’t believe it’ll rain 
to-night or to-morrow, but it’ll be damp and 
muggy, and we ought to get through while it’s 
easy to move lively.” 

And there was no chance to complain of his 
liveliness next day, though it was a “ sticky ” 
atmosphere that made one want to strip and sit 
in the river. The fellows wouldn’t go back on 
him, and they clung to 'the drilling and blasting 
and clearing manfully; but Horace did more 
than anybody else. Nearing the tents in the 
evening, on their return from tea at the Lees, 
Captain Jack and Pratt and Van Dusen saw a 
light away up on the ledge. 

“ He’s at it yet! ” Pratt muttered. And when 
they got into camp it proved that Horace had 
indeed been working overtime. 

“Settle down, now, for the night!” Lorimer 
said with a laugh. White smiled in a shame- 
faced way. But that gigantic enterprise of 
engineering lay heavily on his mind. When he 
sat down, he remembered heaps of things he 
wanted to do: and after an hour of restlessness 
he nudged Ford, and they slipped out of camp 
and up the ledge again. 

They took no lantern, and they went softly 
and spoke in whispers. The fellows would poke 


SMOKE BY THE ROAD 79 


fun if they were found up there! By this time 
they knew the place pretty well, and they were 
more than half-way to the top when Horace halted 
and laid his hand on a flat rock. 

“ Remember this, Sewall? ” he whispered. 
“ Bully seat, eh? Natural back and all. I’ve 
been thinking we might carry the road on each 
side of it, eh? Sort of enclose it, you know, and 
show that we thought it was precious! ” 

But to this Sewall made a reply that didn’t fit 
at all. 

“ Say,” he murmured, “ I smell tobacco! ” 

“ Nonsense! ” 

“ Well, I do! And I’m going to find out what 
it means! Easy, now! ” 

Stealthily as two Indians, they crept up the 
ledge, — up, up, almost to the top. Trailing the 
odour, heavy in the damp air, silently they swung 
around the boulder — to the source of it. 

“ Oh, don’t mind us, Pratt! ” Horace said 
sarcastically. “ Enjoy yourself! Touch up an- 
other coffin -nail! ” 

The smoker, Charles Pratt, tried to act as if 
he was indifferent and quite at ease. But he 
wriggled uneasily when the fellows seated them- 
selves, one on each side of him. 

“ Been up to this ever since you came to camp, 
Pratt? ” Horace asked. 

“Ye— No, I mean!” 

“ Well, as Terry would say, I guess you’re 


80 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


mean enough for anything. You know the 
rules? ” 

Pratt nodded. His mind reverted uncom- 
fortably to that interview, only three days before, 
when Lorimer had reminded him of them. 

“ S’pose we ought to split on you,” Horace 
went on, half to himself. “ But I hate to worry 
Captain Jack, since he feels sort of responsible 
for you — and I hate to sneak, even for the sake 
of discipline. I’ve a mighty good mind to settle 
this thing myself! 

“ See here,” he added suddenly and sternly, 
“ which would you rather do, have me tell 
Captain Jack, or you take a licking and promise 
to quit? ” 

There was not much light from moon or stars, 
that night, but they could see poor Pratt’s face 
turn slowly green. 

“I’ll t-t-take the licking! ” he stammered 
desperately. And the avengers nodded approval. 

“ That’s man-fashion, so far,” Sewall said. 
“ Lorimer ’s used you mighty white, Pratt, and 
you want him to think you’ve been square with 
him.” 

“ But don’t make any mistake, Pratt,” Horace 
added grimly. “ It’ll be a peach of a licking! 
Cigarettes will never taste good to you when you 
think of it! And — say, Sewall! ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ If he ever relapses, as the doctors say, smokes 


SMOKE BY THE ROAD 81 


another, you’ll lick him. We’ll take turns, till 
we knock the habit out of his system. How’s 
that? ” 

“ That’s right! ” 

“ Give me all the cigarettes you’ve got,” 
White demanded abruptly. Pratt handed over 
a long box almost full. 

“ Any more down in the camp? ” 

“ No.” 

White mounted a few yards and pitched the 
box from the summit of the ledge. When he 
came back he carried a few sprigs of sweet fern. 

“ Crush that in your hands,” he said. “ Take 
the smell off. Remember, that licking is due 
to-morrow morning after breakfast. Don’t try 
to dodge! I’d chase you home to Roxbridge, 
sooner’n miss giving it to you ! 

“ What say, now, if we go down? ” he added. 

The three came into camp, together, and 
Captain Jack smiled happily to see them thus. 
White and Ford were not among his closest 
friends, they had traits he didn’t like at all, and 
yet they had many fine qualities, and association 
with them would be likely to do Pratt good. 
That was the way he sized up the situation. 
What Pratt thought of it, Pratt alone could tell! 

But now Horace had something else on his 
mind besides the road-building — which was 
enough for one boy — and thinking about these 
things he hurried into bed to brace himself for 


82 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


a busy day. When in the middle of the night 
a wind arose, he didn’t know it. No thought of 
duty left undone oppressed his slumbers. Yet 
presently the camp was roused by the roaring of 
him and his tent-mates, sounds that suggested 
nightmare or something worse. 

“ Tis Horace dreaming that his road has 
tipped up and turned over,” Terry muttered 
sleepily. 

Lorimer stuck his head through the tent-flap, 
and drew back chuckling. 

“ Volunteers for a rescue-party wanted,” he 
said as he pushed his feet into his slippers. 4 4 Guess 
Horace forgot to slack his tent-ropes or drive in 
his pegs, and this damp weather has drawn the 
pegs out of the ground. The tent’s blown down 


CHAPTER XII 


IN TIME FOR THE FORMAL OPENING 

It was rather unfortunate that Josie Lee was 
driving a fresh horse that day she met her brother 
at the Junction. Lou Mains, for whom Captain 
Jack and Jeff were waiting with another team, 
came in on the same train with Harry. But there 
was no chance for an introduction, for the Lee 
horse fairly turned somersaults when he heard 
the engine, and Harry sprinted across the plat- 
form, jumped into the light wagon, and, taking 
the reins, sent the brute away. 

Lou got one good look at Josie, however. He 
* stared after the vanishing turnout as if that wasn’t 
nearly enough. 

“ By George! ” he muttered; and Lorimer and 
Bussey saw and heard, and winked at each other 
joyfully. They had felt all along that if there 
was anybody at Four Comers who could per- 
suade Lou to stay longer than the two days he 
had planned for, Josie Lee was that individual. 

It was Tuesday, and the Millvale crowd had 
been in camp in Bussey’s Woods a week. On the 
whole, it had been a delightful week, with just 
83 


84 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


one day of damp weather, and no very unpleasant 
episode, unless one might count as such Pratt’s 
return to cigarettes and the “ licking ” with which 
White punished it. Yet that was all in the family, 
so to speak. Nobody but White and Ford and 
Pratt himself knew where the Roxbridge boy 
got the black eye he displayed on a certain morn- 
ing ; nobody asked questions ; and the beauty of 
it was that — for the time, anyway — it did 
really break Pratt from cigarettes. 

Of course Mains heard nothing about all this. 
It was the agreeable things that Jack and Jeff 
talked about; and there were so many to relate, 
and the drive from the Junction was so enjoyable, 
that the visitor said, at length : 

“ Glad I happened over! Wish I’d been here 
all along! ” 

“ Happened! ’’Jeff repeated. Mains smiled at 
the tone. 

“ Just so,” he answered. “ Had the luck to 
get through a stint I set myself. Couldn’t have 
spared the time if I hadn’t got through.” 

“ Guess you’ll spare the time to stay awhile, 
now you are here,” Jeff said, shaking his head 
wisely. But Captain Jack wouldn’t press that 
point, just at present. He thought it would 
be safe to leave things to Fate — and Josie 
Lee. 

“ Anyway, you’re just in season to help us 
open Horace White’s road up the ledge,” he 


IN TIME FOR OPENING 85 


suggested. “ A worker like you ought to sym- 
pathize with Horace. He’s hung to his job like 
a dog to a bone, and if we’d paid him for overtime 
he’d have all the money in the crowd! ” 

They were at the place where the wood-road 
joined the highway, and Jeff tied his horse in a 
shady spot and noiselessly led his friends to a comer 
that commanded the camp and the ledge at its 
back. 

“ See it? ” he chuckled. “ See Horace’s path? 
’Bout as many crooks and turns as there are on 
the road to ruin, ain’t there? Well, it’s a good, 
easy road, just the same, and you want to climb 
up it and pat Horace on the back! ” 

But that would have to be postponed till later. 
For several of the fellows got their eyes on Mains 
at that moment, and they yelled for the others, 
and it was half an hour before he was free to do 
anything besides shake hands and give and take 
the news of Mill vale and the camp. 

“ Where’s January? ” he asked at length. 
Everybody laughed. 

“ Farming, probably,” Captain Jack answered. 
" Eh? ” 

“ He and Uncle Isaiah have sort o’ taken a 
shine to each other,” Jeff explained. “ Like to 
hear each other talk, ye know. Chances are, if 
uncle’s hoein’ to-day, January’s slamming ’round 
with another hoe in the next row to him, and 
their tongues are both goin’ a plaguy sight 


86 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


faster’!! their hoes are. He’ll be here in time for 
Horace’s show, or — ” 

“ What say if I go get him? ” Pratt smilingly 
interrupted. “ Won’t that be the safest way? ” 

“ Thank you, Charles, I don’t know but it 
would be,” said Lorimer. “ If you feel like taking 
the walk — ” 

“ No, I’ll make it a run,” Pratt responded 
smilingly; and even as he spoke he was off. 
Mains looked after him with a pleased expression. 

“ Improved already,” he muttered to Lorimer. 
“ So’s young Van Dusen. Great brace they’ve 
made in the last week or so! ” And Captain 
Jack nodded his agreement. 

“ If Rob Marr and the rest of the right crowd 
in Roxbridge will get in touch with Pratt and 
stand ready to give him a little lift when he 
needs it, he’ll soon be able to hold his end up 
pretty well,” he answered. “ And if old Van 
Dusen will just keep his hands off young Van 
Dusen, let him develop naturally and as he wants 
to, I’ll back him for another winner. They have 
their faults, like other fellows, but there’s good 
stuff in both of them. 

“ How’s that, Horace? ” he asked as White 
came up. “ I’ve been telling Lou that I think 
Pratt is worth working with, and I’d like your 
judgment, since you’ve had more to do with him 
than anybody else.” 

He said it innocently, not knowing all that 


IN TIME FOR OPENING 87 


White — and his fist — had had to do; and the 
other answered with perfect seriousness. 

“ I think Pratt’s going to shape up all right,” 
he said. “ We’ve got him now where he really 
wants to improve, and that’s a mighty good sign. 

“ Say, when does this speechmaking foolishness 
happen? ” he added, with a sheepish grin. “ Wish 
you fellows would hurry up and get the speeches off 
your stomachs ! I want to go over to the postoffice. ’ ’ 
“ There aren’t going to be any speeches except 
yours and Jeff’s — your speech presenting the 
road and his of acceptance.” 

“ Mine? Not much! ” cried Horace, backing 
off in alarm. “ You’ve got to do that! Say, 
unless you agree, I’ll skip out right now! ” 

Lorimer thought it over a minute. On the 
whole, he concluded, it might be a good idea to 
do the talking, since if Horace had to do it he. 
would never claim the credit to which he was 
entitled. So when Pratt returned with January, 
and the crowd had solemnly paraded, two by 
two, up the new road to the top of the ledge, 
Lorimer told in brief, graceful terms, how White 
had suggested the scheme, planned the road, 
directed the construction, and done the work of 
two or three. 

“ We offer the road to our friend Jeff Bussey,” 
he said, “ as a souvenir of a camping party made 
at home here by his generous hospitality, and we 
suggest that he call it the White Way.” 


88 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ So I will! ’’Jeff answered promptly. “ This 
is the White Way. White for the feller that 
hatched the idea and for all the other white 
fellers that worked on it! There, now! That’s 
all the speech I’ve got! ” 

“ Aren’t you going to hoist the flag? ” Horace 
asked, in a disappointed tone. His last achieve- 
ment had been to drill a hole in the top of the 
ledge and set up a flagstaff, and he was prouder 
of that than of any other part of the performance. 

“ Not much! You’re going to! ” was Jeff’s 
reply. And he and Captain Jack escorted White 
forward and placed the halyards in his hands, 
while January started in on his own hook to lead 
the cheering. 

“ ’Ooroar for ’Orace White! ” he began. 

“ ’Ooroar for Jeff Bussey! ” came next. 

“ ’Ooroar for the White helephant! ” was the 
third call for cheers. 

He meant to say something very different, of 
course — the White elevator, perhaps. The 
other word had somehow caught on his tongue, 
in the curious way words sometimes do. 

And yet, though the fellows laughed instead 
of cheering, and poked a lot of fun at him, it 
seemed to Captain Jack a minute later that 
January was a prophet and had sized up the 
situation ; for all of a sudden Will Van Dusen came 
over and pointed toward the lower end of the path. 

“ There’s father, down in the camp! ” Will said. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE LOAD OF THE WHITE ELEPHANT 

As Captain Jack had said to Mains, the trouble 
with the elder Van Dusen would be to make him 
keep his hands off. He was so anxious to help 
that he was liable to hinder, and would have 
to be watched continually to prevent him from 
killing somebody with kindness. 

But the gleam of gratification that shone in 
his eyes as he watched his son running down the 
ledge was not lost upon Captain Jack. Evidently 
Van Dusen realized that things were “ going 
right; ” and Lorimer hardened his heart to keep 
them so, even at the cost of forcible language. 

There was no need of that at first, though, for 
the visitor was smiling of countenance and 
almost jovial in manner, and he shook Lorimer’s 
hand as if he would never let go. 

“ The young man is looking well,” Van Dusen 
said. “In fact” — he settled his eyeglasses 
more firmly and glanced at the fellows on the 
ledge — “ roughing it seems to agree with every- 
body. 

“ You’re enjoying yourself, Will? ” he added. 

89 


90 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 

“ Don’t miss anything you have at home? No 
particular hardship that’s too much for you? ” 

“ Oh, I’m having a bully time,” was the boy’s 
answer. 

“ I left the auto out beyond,” Mr. Van Dusen 
resumed. “ I brought some — er — a few things 
that I thought might prove a — er — palatable 
addition to your camp menu. Shall I tell the 
chauffeur to unload the packages? ” He kept 
an anxious eye on Captain Jack and, though 
Lorimer listened with a smile, that didn’t seem 
to give the millionaire much comfort. 

“ If it’s anything as serviceable as the wooden 
plates you so thoughtfully sent us, I’d say yes at 
once,” was the leader’s reply. “ We’ve blessed 
your name for those, three times a day. But 
we’re not receiving gifts of luxuries and dainties, 
you know, sir. They don’t harmonise with a 
camp, and they couldn’t be eaten by fellows who 
are in training. 

“ Suppose you give me an idea of what you 
brought, sir? ” he suggested. 

“ Come out to the auto.” 

Slowly and rather sadly Van Dusen led the way 
over the wood-road and out to the highway, and 
nervously named the contents of the cases and 
packages that filled all the spare space in the big 
car. 

He must have raided a fancy grocery. There 
was everything in the assortment of expensive 


THE WHITE ELEPHANT 91 


delicacies from p&t6 de foie gras to chocolate 
creams. But there was little or nothing that 
Captain Jack would have eaten himself or allowed 
to a would-be athlete, and as he looked over the 
mess January’s phrase came into his mind and 
seemed to fit the auto and its load. A white 
elephant — that was what Van Dusen’s touring- 
car was — and yet it would have to be taken care 
of somehow! 

“ This is very generous of you, Mr. Van Dusen,” 
he said, “ but I don’t see how we can use anything 
except the nuts and fruit. P&t6 and truffles and 
foods of that kind are about as contrary to our 
principles as champagne and cigars would be. 
Pickles are almost poisonous to a boy of Will’s 
build and temperament, and, though he needs 
sugar, I’d rather give it to him in some safer 
form than candy. We appreciate it all, your 
thought of us, and the delicacies you’ve brought 
us, but, as I said before, the nuts and fruit will be 
all I dare to keep.” 

“ All right. Take these two baskets into the 
camp, Harris, and leave the rest of the stuff 
where it is,” Van Dusen said to the chauffeur. 
Like every successful man he could throw off 
and forget a thing the minute it was settled, 
and now he turned to his son, with another thought 
already in his mind. 

“ If you want to take some of your friends for 
an hour’s spin, Will, you may do so,” he said. 


92 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Meanwhile I’ll look over the camp and talk with 
Mr. Lorimer.” 

Ten minutes later an odd assortment — Terry, 
Pratt, Harriott and Will Van Dusen — bowled 
away in the auto, and Captain Jack led its owner 
through the camp, and finally, by White’s new 
road, up to the top of the ledge. 

“ What do you think of my son? ” was 
Van Dusen’s first question when they were 
alone. 

“ He’s a fine boy, sir,” Captain Jack replied. 
“ Full of energy and ambition, pretty good con- 
stitution to build upon, and intelligent enough 
to understand and carry out instructions. Prin- 
cipal difficulty will be to keep him from trying 
to do too much, go ahead too fast. But that’ll 
be my business — provided you trust me with 
his training. I rely on you and his mother not 
to interfere.” 

“Eh? What? How’s that? ” 

Captain Jack smiled, but he looked the older 
man straight in the eye. 

“ I mean that if Will does anything or objects 
to do anything, and you don’t understand, I 
don’t want you to fuss or argue with him about 
it, but let me know. For example, when he goes 
home he’ll probably eat different food, go to bed 
and get up earlier, and make other changes in 
his habits. All these changes will be for his good. 
If any of them puzzle you, bring your questions 


THE WHITE ELEPHANT 93 


to me, and I’ll tell you why I advised him to do 
so-and-so. That’s fair, isn’t it? ” 

“ Er — yes — it appears to be,” was the father’s 
cautious answer. “ Of course we are prepared 
to sustain you in all beneficial undertakings — ” 
“ And I must be the judge of what are bene- 
ficial,” Captain Jack interrupted. Mr. Van Dusen 
laughed. 

“ Very well,” he said. “ You’re an obstinate, 
up-and-down rascal, but I fancy you know what 
you’re talking about; and I like to see a lad 
stick up for his rights! ” 

In the course of the next hour he heard many 
things that puzzled him. There were no “ frills ” 
on this camp, either of clothing or diet, and 
Van Dusen could hardly understand how boys 
who came from homes where they had everything 
they wanted could enjoy going without things 
as they did here. But that they were enjoying 
themselves and gaining health and strength he 
could not doubt. His own son vouched for 
it. 

Well ballasted with new ideas, Mr. Van Dusen 
went away at length, and Lorimer turned to 
greet Harry Lee, a more frequent visitor who 
was always welcome. 

“ One goes and another comes,” Lee said, 
smilingly. “ But everybody will be travelling, 
perhaps, day after to-morrow. What do I mean 
by that? Well, I’ve already fixed it up with Terry 


94 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and Mains to take the crowd, as many as want 
to go, to the fair at Hill Village.” 

“ Have you? Thursday, eh? What about the 
fair? And where is Hill Village? ” 

“ Eight or ten miles west of here. The fair is 
given by an agricultural society that covers all 
the towns in this region. Fair comes so early 
in the season that there’s not much doing else- 
where for fakirs and side-show men, and they’re 
on hand in regiments. Pretty lively times there, 
generally. You can see about everything you’d 
find at any such show, from an educated pig to 
a balloon ascension.” 

“ Well, if the fair is stupid, there’ll be fun in 
the crowd, anyhow. We’ll all take it in. On 
second thoughts, though,” Captain Jack added, 
with a smile, “ I don’t know whether we’ll be 
able to tear January from the soil. How’s that, 
January? ” he called to the fat boy. “ Think 
you could leave your farming for a day? ” 

“ Ho, yus, thank ye, sir. Huncle Hisaiah and 
Hi ’ave ’oed the com, ye know, and we’ve almost 
caught hup with the potato bugs. Huncle Hi- 
saiah’s a-going ’imself, ye know. ’E says it’s 
foolishness, most of it, but ’e goes to see the 
folks ’e knows, ye know.” 

“ And we’ll go to see the folks we don’t know! ” 
laughed Lorimer. 

Yet, little as he expected it, they would meet a 
man with whom he had undergone a thrilling 


THE WHITE ELEPHANT 95 


experience; and under that man’s pilotage Lori- 
mer and McGrady and Lou Mains were des- 
tined to figure in a strange and amusing adven- 
ture. 


CHAPTER XIV 


GIRL FRIENDS AS WELCOME VISITORS 

But Thursday was still two days ahead, and 
Wednesday was not to be destitute of events. 
One of them was foreshadowed — though nobody 
knew exactly what was going to happen — on 
Wednesday morning, when Harry Lee drove 
over to camp in a great hurry, and, after a 
mysterious conference with Jeff, hunted up 
Captain Jack, Terry McGrady and Ned Harriott. 

“You three are not to leave camp this after- 
noon on any account! ” Harry said, impressively. 
“ I’m not at liberty to tell you, why you ought 
to stay around, but it’ll be very much to your 
advantage to do so. How’s that, Jeff? ” 

“ That’s about the way I size it up,” Bussey 
agreed. “ If they should go rampagin’ off to-day 
they’d — well, they’d deserve to get lost and 
have the bears eat ’em! ” 

“ By the way, I fancy the Roxbridge boy, 
Pratt, is in this, too,” Harry added. “ Keep him 
in camp till you find out, till 2 o’clock, say. 
Who’s captain of the camp to-day? ” 

Ned Harriott held out his hands. “ Any need 

96 


GIRL FRIENDS 


97 


to ask? ” he said. “ Look at the bums I got, 
cooking breakfast! ” 

“ They’ll be cured between this and supper 
time,” Lee chuckled. “ And since you’re captain, 
Ned, and can’t go away anyhow, I leave these 
three in your charge. Tie ’em to the trees if they 
show any disposition to wander! 

“ See here, Lou, you’re out of it,” Harry went 
on, “ so why can’t you drive back and spend the 
day with me? Every one wants to see you, and 
we’ll try to give you a good time.” And Mains 
nodded, with an eagerness that was not lost on 
Jack and Jeff, and, waving his hand toward the 
group, made straight for Lee’s wagon. 

“ He’ll go back to-morrow night, I don’t think! ” 
Jeff said to Lorimer. “ He won’t be willin’ to 
leave Lee’s before snow flies! ” 

But before Captain Jack could reply, a groan 
of disgust from Jeff suddenly turned his attention. 
Stalking solemnly forward, came old Jared Pea- 
body, with a scowl on his leathery face. 

“ Say! ” the visitor exploded, “ what kind o’ 
messes you fellers cookin’ here? I don’t b’lieve 
I’m called on to stand the smells that comes from 
this hoorah’s nest three times a day, and I ain’t 
a-goin’ to do it, nuther! ” 

The words provoked a general grin. There 
were none but clean and wholesome odours 
around the camp, and the notion that they 
could reach nearly a mile struck the boys as 


98 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


funnier than any complaint that the cranky old 
fellow had made yet. But when he got his face 
straight Jeff pointed at Ned. 

“ That feller burned some water this mornin’,” 
Jeff said. “ If he ever does it again we’re goin’ 
to drum him out of camp! ” 

“ Well, you better! Ketch any of ye bumin’ 
water under my nose — ” But at that point 
the boys had to roar. Then at last old Jared 
seemed to awaken to the absurdity of his threat, 
and, shaking his fist at the group, he went off 
muttering. 

“ Sure there can’t be anything crazier than 
that running around in Massachusetts,” Terry 
commented. “ 'Tis safer its neighbours would 
be if it had a ring through its nose and was tied 
up in a stall.” 

“ Oh, Jared’s a pesky old nuisance, but there’s 
no harm in him,” Jeff answered. “ I s’pose he 
makes some kind of roar to Uncle Isaiah as often 
as once a week the year round. But uncle just 
tells him to go hang himself, and keeps right on 
about his business, and that’s the end of it.” 

Still smiling at the ridiculous episode, Captain 
Jack turned away. Sewall Ford, Pratt and Will 
Van Dusen were among the group to which chance 
led his steps, and as he approached he heard 
Sewall say, “ Stump you to do it! ” and Pratt 
answer, “ I won’t take a dare! I’ll do it, you 
bet! ” Lorimer stopped. 


GIRL FRIENDS 


99 


“ What’s the game, boys? ” he said. 

“ Oh, I’ve been telling Pratt he can’t go down 
the other side of the ledge, and he says he will,” 
Ford replied. 

“Anything down there that you want, Charles ? ” 
Lorimer asked. Pratt stared at him wonderingly. 

“ Why, no,” he answered at length. “ I won’t 
take a dare, though! ” 

“ Won’t you? I would — take it and leave it,” 
was Lorimer ’s quiet reply. “A ‘ stump ’ is a 
fool argument, anyway, and a fellow’s generally a 
fool to take one up. If you went down the side 
of the ledge it wouldn’t prove anything, except 
that you’re willing to risk your limbs needlessly — 
and that’s nothing to brag about. Keep on 
your own side, and save your nerve and courage 
for some sensible use. 

“ Besides,” he added, with a smile, “if we go 
in that direction our old friend Peabody will be 
after us for trespass! ” And the boys laughed at 
that, as he meant they should, and forgot their 
silly plan. 

One couldn’t say that life in camp was ever 
dull. There was always something turning up, 
and it seemed to the other fellows, sometimes, as 
if it was work enough to keep the younger ones 
straight — indeed, Captain Jack and Terry ex- 
changed more than one groan over the “ preach- 
ing ” they had to do. But to-day the hours were 
long in passing. 


lofc. 


100 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Something was going to happen, according to 
Harry Lee, and he had named several of the 
fellows as chiefly concerned in it. But they 
didn’t know what it was; and when, a little after 
noon, Jeff quietly slipped away, they didn’t even 
have the satisfaction of worrying him for informa- 
tion, and then it became rather difficult to kill time. 

Not for long, though. Before 2 o’clock Jeff 
appeared again, triumphantly escorting May 
Roxton, Rose Ahearn, Clare Bell, Nora McGrady, 
Marion Woodside, from Roxbridge, and Ned 
Harriott’s mother. That was the secret and 
surprise, that the girls were coming over to call, 
and there is no need of saying that their friends 
were pleased to see them. 

“ But why didn’t you let us know, so we could 
have fixed up a little? ” Lorimer demanded. 

“We didn’t want you to fix up. Wanted to 
see your every-day housekeeping,’’ May answered 
merrily. 

“ Sure you’ll see it at its worst to-day,” Terry 
suggested, with his eye on Clare. “ ’Tis Ned’s 
day in charge. He’s responsible for everything, 
from the east wind to the dab of smut on his 
own nose.” 

“ That’s all right. I haven’t blown up any 
oil stoves, yet,” was Ned’s rejoinder. Terry 
had been guilty of that very thing a few days 
earlier ; but of course the accusation never 
touched him. 


GIRL FRIENDS 


101 


“ And who says I ever blew up an oil stove? 
’Twas the oil blew up,” he answered. “ If you’ll 
walk to the top of the ledge with me, Rose, I’ll 
show you where the stove went,” he added. 

Of course that signalled a scattering, though 
it did not take place at once. The girls and their 
chaperon had to see everything in the camp 
and have every detail of the daily life explained 
to them; and every camper wished, naturally, 
to pay his respects and ask a hundred questions 
about his friends in Mill vale. But after awhile 
the congenial couples got together and sought 
quiet places for more intimate conversations. 

“You didn’t tell me why you haven’t gone to 
the Beach as usual, this summer,” Captain Jack 
suggested as he and May Roxton strolled apart 
from the crowd. “ If you’re not going, why not 
persuade Mamma Roxton to come to Four Cor- 
ners? Jeff’s Uncle Isaiah would put you up, 
and you could be here at the camp from 6 a. m. 
to 9 p. m. — ” 

“ How lovely! ” May interrupted mockingly. 
“ No, we think it’s better to leave you boys to 
yourselves and give you a chance to find out how 
useless and helpless you are. Seriously, papa 
has been bothered about that cottage of ours — 
repairs were needed, that he didn’t find out 
about until we were on the point of going there — 
and now I wouldn’t wonder if we spent most of 
the summer at home in Millvale. Uncle George 


102 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Burtis wants us to come up to Bethlehem. Per- 
haps we’ll go, later on, for a fortnight or so.” 

“Yes, do. Go and see King Tom, and give 
him my love.” 

“ You’ll have plenty of chances to do that, 
yourself. Uncle George wants you to come with 
us, or at least to come up on Saturdays while 
we’re there, and if you do either you can talk to 
the horse all you wish. Frankly, I’d rather talk 
to him than to the jockey who rides him. I 
think the horse is the more intelligent and agree- 
able beast! ” 

Lorimer laughed. “We won’t mind, as long 
as he runs away from Colonel Mills’s Tyrant,” he 
said. “ By the way, how did you happen to bring 
the Roxbridge girl? Tom Bell isn’t here, so 
what’s the attraction for her? ” 

“ Who, Marion Woodside? She came over to 
Millvale, this morning, and I found she had some 
pleasant things to say about the Pratt boy, and 
I asked her to join us because I thought it would 
do him good to hear them.” 

Nor could any one have doubted this, who had 
listened to the messages of which that visitor 
was the bearer. 

“ Rob Marr says you’re all right now, Charles, 
if Lorimer has taken you up,” she reported. 
“ Rob and Catherwood say you must drop around 
and see them when you get home — and I say 
you must, too! Now you’ve made a good start, 


GIRL FRIENDS 


103 


it’ll be every bit your own fault if you lose friends 
or get into trouble again! ” 

Pratt nodded. He knew it. 

“ I saw your Uncle Horton, yesterday,” Marion 
continued. “ Such a change in him, you can’t 
think! He seemed to be actually proud that you 
were camping with a party of athletes. He 
wanted to talk about it. I guess the athletes of 
Roxbridge High will have an easier time after 
this — thanks to Captain Jack! ” 

“ Lorimer’s all right,” Pratt muttered. 

“ Yes, and so is May. May is just lovely! I 
can’t imagine why she’s so nice to me, but I’m 
thankful she is, and — ” 

“ Oh, you’re all right yourself! ” Pratt inter- 
rupted. “ Tom Bell thinks so, and everybody in 
Millvale swears by what he says! ” 

It was not a very graceful utterance, but he 
meant it as a compliment, and because compli- 
ments were not in his line the girl found the 
novelty welcome. She flushed and dimpled and 
started to courtesy. Then her eyes brightened 
roguishly, and she waved her hand in a gesture 
that took in the camp. 

“ Everybody is all right, Charles! ” she cried. 


CHAPTER XV 


NICK AND NOCK AND MERRY MAC 

Perhaps the sight of the people from home had 
made everybody a little restless. It was noticeable 
that night that there was more talk of Millvale 
and the gym than usual ; and if the weather had 
not been so perfect that it made one dread the 
thought of living in a house, and if there had not 
been a visit to the fair on the next day’s pro- 
gramme, there might have been some desertions. 

Not that Lou Mains would have deserted! 
Apparently he had forgotten all about that plan 
to stay two days only. Indeed, he had already 
promised Harry Lee to join the fair-goers — even 
though Josie wouldn’t be among them. 

And when the time came for the big wagons, 
provided by Harry and Jeff, to start from the 
camp, every camper was in the load. The tents 
could look out for themselves, the fellows thought. 
Tramps were not likely to come that way, and all 
Four Corners was friendly. 

It was a jolly and noisy party, of course, as well 
as a large one. The wagons kept quite near 
together, over most of the road, and when they 
had to draw apart, well, it was only a matter of 
104 


NICK AND NOCK 


105 


stretching one’s lungs a little. But as they 
approached the fair-grounds, Terry, who had 
been performing on January’s tin whistle, dropped 
it with a gesture of despair. 

“ Sure it beats me! ” he said. “ ’Tis a 40- 
horsepower megaphone one would want, to be 
heard above that racket! ” 

It was as Harry Lee had promised, a lively 
place — surprisingly so, for such an isolated 
region. There must have been a great display of 
livestock, judging by the bellowing, bleating, and 
crowing, and two or three thousand people, all 
talking at the tops of their voices, were on the 
grounds — not to mention the fakirs, who were 
present in numbers, and taking no pains to speak 
in whispers. 

Jack and Terry, Lou Mains and Harry Lee 
wandered off together, patronizing all the side 
shows and joining the crowds around the stalls, 
by way of making the grand circuit, as Terry said. 
But they had not gone very far when Terry sud- 
denly caught Lorimer’s arm and drew his attention 
to a group of persons massed around something 
that occupied a central open space. 

“Logan!” Terry cried. “Logan and his 
balloon — waiting for us! ” 

“Not much! ” laughed Lorimer. “ Once is 
enough! ” 

Yet he was glad to meet the nervy aeronaut — 
with whom, as told in “ Jack Lorimer’s Cham- 


106 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


pions,” he and McGrady had made a perilous 
balloon voyage; and Logan for his part declared 
that he took the encounter as a sign of luck. 

“ My friend Mr. King,” he said, calling up a 
small man with a bristling red moustache, who 
seemed to be viewing the preparations rather 
gloomily. “ He’s going up with me to-day — 
just to keep himself out of mischief, he says. 

“ Mighty good, square fellow, King is,” he 
explained, aside, “ and had the best thing on the 
grounds, if it hadn’t been upset by his people 
failing to show up, somehow. See that big tent 
over there? Well, that’s his, and he could have 
filled it like a shot, over and over. As it is, he’s 
stranded, as you might say. It’ll take all he’s 
got left to get to the next fair.” 

“What’s his line of business?” Terry asked, 
indifferently. Logan handed him a poster, and 
McGrady read it aloud : 

THE MASKED BOXERS ! 

The Greatest Marvel of the Age! 

NICK AND NOCK, THE BOY LIGHT- 
WEIGHTS 

Who Hit Hard, Hit Fair, and Keep on 
Hitting ! 


Come and See the Science of 

MERRY MAC, THE MIDDLEWEIGHT CHAMPION 


NICK AND NOCK 


107 


Challenges All the World at 158 lbs. and under 
21 years ! 

Sample His Lightning Left-handers! 


Admission — Only One Dime ! 

“ Masked boxers, eh? ” Terry repeated. He 
grinned and glanced at Captain Jack. 

“ That’s the idea,” Logan nodded. “ King’s 
three are clever, but he says the element of 
mystery is what draws the crowds, and I guess 
he’s right. When they see a mighty good boxer 
with a mask on, half of ’em think it may 
be a champion pugilist out for a holiday, 
see? ” 

“ Sure I see — I see some fun in this, if Lou is 
willing to pose as Merry Mac, and meet all comers ! ” 
Terry chuckled. “ Lou’s heavy for middleweight 
and Jack and I are a little overgrown for light- 
weights, but the spectators won’t mind if we give 
’em their money’s worth, eh? ” 

“ By George, if you’d only go through the 
show once, you’d be pulling King out of a bad 
hole!” Logan cried; and King himself, not 
daring yet to hope, watched their faces with 
feverish eagerness. 

“ I’m with you,” Mains announced, with a 
chuckle. Partly for the fun of the thing, partly 
to do the showman a kindness, he would chance 
a meeting with anybody of his weight who might 


108 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


turn up. And Captain Jack, for the same reasons, 
was more than willing to spar a few rounds with 
Terry, and was already thinking how they 
could ensure a crowd. 

“ Where’s January? ” he asked. “We want him 
and his tin whistle to head a street parade. Hi, 
there, January! Come with us, and we’ll show 
you some sport! ” Waving their hands to the 
smiling Logan, the three boxers and the fat boy 
followed the exultant King. 

The showman had made his “ pitch ” on 
ground that rose up to a higher, flat surface at 
the back, and on this was roped off a regulation 
ring. A little compartment in one comer served 
as a dressing-room, and from this, Lou, Jack and 
Terry presently emerged, in belts, gymnasium 
trunks and white satin vests, their eyes twinkling 
through the black silk masks. 

“ Now, then, January,” said Terry, “ out with 
that tooter of yours, and we’ll start a procession 
that will draw the giddy throng! ” 

In single file, with the fat boy in advance, and 
King behind them handing out his bills, the boys 
sauntered through the fair, in and out and 
round about the crowds. Everybody turned to 
look, and when, presently, they swung round 
and back toward the tent, many followed. Tired 
of the rest of the shows, people quickly caught 
on to this new sensation, and the followers had 
grown from dozens to hundreds when they 


NICK AND NOCK 


109 


reached the big tent, and the masked boxers, 
with Harry Lee at their back, dived inside. 

“ Walk up, walk up! ” roared King. “ See the 
grand old game played as it ought to be! See the 
Masked Boxers, the wonder of the age! Watch 
Nick and Nock, and put on the gloves with Merry 
Mac, if you dare! Plank down your dimes, now, 
gentlemen, while there’s room at the front! ” 
And the crowd, eager for novelty, swarmed down 
upon the tent, and fairly begged King to take 
their money and let them in quick. 

There was no doubt about the show being a 
success, so far. Even around the dressing-room 
the tent was packed, and the three Masked Boxers 
found it rather a squeeze to struggle through the 
ropes. Coached by Harry Lee, who knew many 
of those in front, Mains began to speak, or rather 
to yell. 

“ Gentlemen, admirers of the manly art,” he 
said, “ the Masked Boxers will now try to give 
you your money’s worth. First on the pro- 
gramme will be a match, fought to a finish, 
between Nick and Nock, the two finest under- 
age boxers in America! ” 

The crowd roared approval. Lou held up his 
hand again for silence. 

‘ ‘ Order ! ” he yelled . “To show that everything 
is fair and aboveboard, we intend to ask members 
of the audience to officiate at this match. I see 
before me two well-known gentlemen, whom you 


110 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


all know as good sportsmen, and I ask them to 
do us the honour to act as timekeeper and referee 
— Mr. James Letson and Mr. Mark Shaw,” 

There was loud applause for Letson and Shaw, 
and it was repeated when Mains called two clean- 
looking lads, whom Lee recognized as football 
players, to act as seconds. Then Mains went 
back to the dressing-room and Jack and Terry 
stepped forward. 

They stripped well and they looked as if they 
meant business, but this was a critical time and 
King was watching his audience anxiously. 
Crowds are notoriously fickle, and if people sud- 
denly began to imagine they had paid their money 
to see nothing but a boys’ pounding match, there 
would be trouble. But there was hardly a sound 
in the tent as the two Masked Boxers shook 
hands. 

“ Time! ” called the referee. 

Terry immediately let out, straight from the 
shoulder, and Jack would have been driven off 
his feet if he had not ducked smartly. He coun- 
tered heavily on Terry’s ribs, and the crowd 
roared approval of this rattling beginning. 

Nobody could say this fight was a running 
match. Jack knew the interest must be kept 
going, and he led an attack that fairly drove 
Terry back to the ropes; and Terry played the 
game as desperately as if he had been fighting a 
professional for the championship. He took two 


NICK AND NOCK 


111 


swinging blows, half guarded, without wincing, 
and then clinched. The referee called to them, 
and Terry broke away at the cost of a clip on the 
ear. Jack came in at him rather incautiously, 
and got an uppercut that laid him out. 

“ Time! ” said the referee. 

The advantage of the round was all with Terry, 
but, though Jack had done his best, he was too 
pleased at the way the audience took it to mind 
the setback. The crowd was buzzing with 
excitement. 

“ Smart boys, ain’t they! ” 

“ I bate ye! They’re scienced, too! They 
know where them plunks o’ theirn are goin’! ” 

“ Time! ” 

In the second round both combatants went 
at it harder still, and at the close they were pretty 
even. The crowd grew more and more excited, 
and those outside the tent were howling at King 
to let them in. 

In the third round Jack got at Terry’s wind 
with pretty serious effect, and in the fourth put 
him on his back, only the call of “ Time! ” saving 
him from defeat. Very evenly matched the 
young boxers were, for in the next round Terry 
recovered his wind, and in the sixth he laid Jack 
out in his turn. 

The eighth was fought carefully, for both boys 
were getting winded with so much hard hitting. 
But in the ninth, meeting in the middle of the 


112 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


ring, they arrived at the finish, Jack handing 
out a right and left that fairly laid Terry low. 
Gamely as he tried, he could not come to time. 

A tremendous shout greeted the winner. 

“ The fight is awarded to Nick,” called the 
referee. “ Whoever he is, he’s as handy with his 
fists as any youngster I ever saw — and the other 
isn’t more than a hair’s breadth behind him! ” 


CHAPTER XVI 


A SURPRISE FOR THE LOCAL CHAMPION 

As the two chums shook hands cordially, to 
the accompaniment of a storm of shouting, 
Mains made his way inside the ropes. He talked 
for a minute to Mr. Letson, and that gentleman 
promptly advanced and called for order. 

“ Gentlemen,” he cried, “ I am requested to 
announce that the famous pugilist here beside 
me, who calls himself Merry Mac, is open to 
fight a match to a finish, under Queensberry rules, 
with any one of his weight bn this fair-ground! ” 

The crowd cheered eagerly as Mains stepped 
forward. 

“As a sportsman myself,” cried Letson, “ I 
consider this as fair a sporting offer as ever I 
heard. Now, then, who takes it? ” 

“ Any purse hung up? ” asked somebody in 
the crowd. Mains shook his head. 

“ No purse! ” called the referee. “ This is 
sport, not prize-fighting ! Who’s out for the 
honour and glory? ” 

Several started toward the ring, but the fore- 
most was the heaviest of them all. He was a big, 
113 


114 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


bulky, shambling youth, with shoulders like the 
arms of a gallows, and a squat, brutal face. 

“ Put me down for this! ” he said. “ I can 
knock the stuffin’ out of anybody round here. 
Let me get at his nibs in the mask, and I’ll send 
him to bed for a month.” 

“ Good boy, Tom! ” shouted several. “ You’ll 
cut his teeth for him! ” 

“ You’re over 158, Tom Bowles! ” said the 
referee. 

“ No, I ain’t,” snarled the shock-headed youth. 
“ I’m under age, anyhow, and you know it! ” 

“ He’s under twenty-one, certainly,” said the 
referee aside to Mains, looking very serious, “ but 
I’m pretty sure he’s away over-weight — and he’s 
a heavy slugger — the terror of the neighbour- 
hood! ” 

“ That’s all right; let him come on,” Mains 
answered quietly. Then he turned to the crowd. 

“ I don’t know his weight,” he cried, “ but if 
Tom Bowles is your best man, send him along! ” 

“Tom Bowles! Tom Bowles!” shouted the 
audience, and the uproar grew as Tom, grinning 
maliciously, went into the dressing-room. He 
borrowed a pair of canvas shoes, and soon reap- 
peared, stripped to the waist. 

His chest was hairy as a door-mat, and looked 
enormously powerful. His arms were like young 
trees, and being the taller, as well as much the 
stouter, he had the longer reach. A blow with 



u 


>> 


THE LOCAL CHAMPION MADE A RUSH LIKE A BULL 






' 





f 













. 














A SURPRISE 


115 


all his might behind it must put Mains out of 
business. The crowd fancied it knew already 
how the match would end. 

There was an ugly leer on the big fellow’s face 
as he stepped into the ring and shook hands with 
Mains rather contemptuously. The spectators 
stood in expectant silence. 

“ Time! ” said the referee. 

The local champion made a rush like a bull, 
driving in tremendous blows straight from the 
shoulder. He meant to knock Mains out at once, 
and if he had planted those blows as he intended 
the fight would have ended right away. But 
Mains’s head went down like a flash. The first 
blow brushed the top of it, and as he side-stepped 
the second whizzed past his ear. 

Stopping another smashing hit, Mains put in 
a jab with his right that left a dull red blur on 
Bowles’s face, and leaped back into the centre of 
the ring. On came Tom again, to receive another 
jab in the same spot, and Mains got in return a 
swinging “ side-winder ” that made his head 
ring. Then came the cry of “ Time! ” 

The audience, so far, hardly knew what to 
think. Tom’s blows were so terrific that some of 
them were bound to get home and end the match. 
That was the general belief. But the more know- 
ing ones noticed that Mains was as fresh as paint, 
while the hairy chest of his rival was rising and 
falling faster than it ought. 


116 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Lou’ll wind him up yet,” muttered Jack to 
Terry, as they watched from the dressing-room 
door. 

Up came Mains for the second time, and Bowles 
went to work in the same way. So savage was 
his rush, and so well judged, that he drove Mains 
into a corner, and, once he had him there, the 
local champion put in his straight-arm blows, 
each given with a hoggish grunt that showed its 
power. Mains clinched. As he broke away he 
received a staggering uppercut and a heavy 
smash in the ribs. 

As he gained the open space Bowles was upon 
him again. But this time the result was surprising 
— to every one, that is, save Jack and Terry. 
Bowles had lowered his guard. Full in upon his 
mouth came a left-hander like a thunderbolt. 
The bulky youth went over backward as if a pile- 
driver had come down on him and at the same 
moment the referee cried, “ Time! ” 

The crowd was in an uproar as Bowles was 
pulled to his second’s knee. Many thought the 
local champion would decide he had had enough. 

“ Sure that was one of the real old sort,” com- 
mented Terry. “ Another one or two will turn 
Bowles into broken crockery.” 

“ Time! ” cried the referee. 

Now it was Lou Mains’s time, so to speak. He 
had sized up his opponent’s peculiar style and 
avoided him easily. Meanwhile he planted blow 


A SURPRISE 


117 


after blow on Bowles’s ribs, and it was easy to 
see how they told on the bulky body; for Tom’s 
wind was spoiled by tobacco and liquor, while 
Mains was in perfect condition, and his muscles 
were like watch-springs. 

In fact, Tom Bowles was making his last rally. 
With mad, furious blows he bore down on Mains, 
who guarded or dodged them with perfect ease. 
The uproar grew to a perfect storm. Everybody 
shouted at once. 

Then came one last lightning-blow from Mains. 
His left, so swift that it could hardly be followed, 
came up to the point of the big fellow’s chin with 
the power of a steam-hammer behind it. Tom 
Bowles was fairly lifted off his feet, and fell flat 
upon his back. 

The big slugger lay panting, his knees drawn 
up. The timekeeper’s voice, counting the seconds, 
reached him, and his feet moved as if to try to 
rise. But it was useless: he was knocked out. 

“ Seven, eight, nine, ten! ” 

A deafening roar hailed the last word ; but the 
referee’s deep-chested shout rang out above the 
storm of outcries. 

“ The stranger wins! Give him three cheers, 
boys! ” 

Cheer upon cheer rang out for Mains, who drew 
off his gloves, and offered to shake hands with his 
vanquished rival as soon as Bowles was helped 
to his feet. The beaten man, however, turned 


118 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


away with a scowl — a foolish thing to do, for it 
earned him a hearty hissing. In fact, nobody was 
very sorry at the defeat of the local champion, 
who was a good deal of a bully. 

“Well done, young man!” cried the referee, 
slapping Mains on the back. “ I don’t know who 
you are, but you spar like a Trojan! ” 

“ Much obliged,” Mains answered. “ And 
much obliged to you and the other gentleman 
for judging our little show! ” And he turned 
toward the crowd. 

“ Now, boys,” he said, “ three cheers for the 
referee and timekeeper, who’ve helped us like the 
good sportsmen they are!” With cheers that 
almost lifted the top out of the tent, the spectators 
reluctantly dispersed. 

As the fellows were dressing, King, the pro- 
prietor of the show, came hurrying toward them. 
He was waving a telegram, and his face was 
radiant. 

“ There’s a chance my three will reach here in 
season so we can give a show to-night,” he said. 
“ But even if they don’t, I can get to my next 
stand without borrowing money from Logan or 
having my tent attached for debt — and it’s all 
owing to you gentlemen that I’m out of the hole. 

“ Say, it was a ripping show! ” King went on, 
“ and I can’t thank you enough for pitching in 
and giving it. I wish there was something I 
could do for you ! If ever there comes a time when 


A SURPRISE 


119 


Tony King can give you a lift, you can count on 
him — and Ned Logan will tell you I’m not one 
of the forgetful kind! ” 

“ It’s all right, Mr. King,” Captain Jack an- 
swered. “ We’ve had a good time ourselves, and 
we’re glad we could do you a good turn. If you 
ever happen around Millvale way, drop into our 
gym and say hello! ” 

They left King counting up his dimes, the 
happiest man on the fair-grounds, and sauntered 
out to look for their own crowd. Elverton was 
one of the first they found. It proved that he 
had been one of their audience, and he was full 
of the amazing resemblance between themselves 
and Nick and Nock and Merry Mac. 

“ The big fellow that looked like you, Mains — 
why, even his voice was like yours! ” Elverton 
said. “But he talked pretty long sentences, 
used some words he didn’t have to, so — ” 

“ I was making a speech, then,” Lou chuckled. 
“ Can’t very well do that without using words, 
you know! ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE HEMPEROR OF THE HATMOSPHERE 

Before the day was over, and before the fun 
of the fair had really worn off, January Jones 
hunted up Lorimer and inveigled him behind the 
tents. “ Hi’ve got it, sir! ” the fat boy whispered, 
hoarsely. 

“ Eh, January? What’s that you’ve got? ” 
Captain Jack replied. 

“ Hi’ve got me huplifting hidea! For me hin- 
vention that Hi told you about, ye know. It’s 
an humbrella. Hi can ’itch it hon in two shakes. 
So Hi want you and the hothers to come back 
to Mill vale for a day. Hi ’ll show you! ” 

Back they went, the score of them, not un- 
willing to revisit home for an hour, and wondering 
much what they would see. For two or three 
months January had been dropping mysterious 
hints about an invention of his, but not even 
Lorimer knew what it was. Nor did they learn 
much from the first glance at the strange creation 
over which they found the fat boy busy when they 
met, by appointment, at the top of Shooter’s 
Hill. 


120 


THE HEMPEROR 


121 


“ Name it, January,” Sewall Ford suggested, 
as he stared. “ Is it an airship, scarecrow, mow- 
ing-machine, or torpedo-boat? ” 

“ It’s the Hemperor of the Hatmosphere! ” 
January said, with ill-concealed pride. 

“ The who? Say it again!” 

“ It’s a wagon and a flying-machine and a 
boat, hall in one! ” the fat boy explained. “ Hi’m 
a-going to send ’er down ’ill and hup in the hair, 
to show you ’ow she works.” 

“ Ever tried it, January? ’’ asked Captain Jack. 

“ No, sir.” 

“ Guess we’d better make the first test on Reed’s 
Hill, hadn’t we? It’s a hot morning, I know, but 
we’ll help you trundle the thing over — it isn’t 
so very far — and there are no trolley cars there 
to bother you. Those wdieels of yours don’t look 
to me as if they’d last very long if they happened 
to slew into the car- track.” 

January glanced critically at his invention. 

“ Hi got the bloomink wheels hoff a baby 
carriage, ye know,” he said. “ Maybe they would 
be heasy bust, what? Hi’ll cover ’er hup again 
and we’ll take ’er across to Reed’s ’111, as you 
say, sir.” 

Captain Jack took care to lead the way by quiet 
streets and many a short cut. Even when covered, 
the fat boy’s masterpiece was calculated to pro- 
voke curiosity and collect crowds. But January 
believed in it, and as he went he chattered gaily : 


122 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Hi’ll ’ave a haluminum car hinstead cf this 
soap box, and a haluminum mast hinstead of 
this clothes pole,” he said. “ Hi’ll ’ave silk sails, 
not this bloomink canvas, and oiled waterproof 
cloth for a parachute, hin place of that humbrella. 

“ Hi’ll ’ave rubber-tired wheels, and Hi’ll put 
in a motor to give more power, and — ” 

“ But where does the boat come in? ” Janvrin 
wanted to know. 

“ Turn ’er hover, and the parachute becomes 
the bottom of the boat, ye know,” January 
explained. 

“ With the four wheels and things slamming 
around on top of it? ” 

“ Ho, no, it’s a collapsible combination, ye 
know.” 

“ Well, I guess that’s right,” Matt Janvrin said, 
with a wink toward Lorimer . J anuary didn ’t heed . 

“ Hi wish Hi ’ad the bloomink motor, now! ” 
he lamented. “ Now Hi ’aven’t, Hi maybe 
can’t work me flying-machine hunless the wind 
would blow.” 

Pausing at this moment at the top of Reed’s 
Hill — their winter coasting place — January once 
more uncovered his invention and began to 
explain. 

“ What’s that, January? ” Terry McGrady 
asked, laying his hand on something that looked 
very familiar, even when mounted on a cart-body 
under a sail. 


THE HEMPEROR 


123 


“ That’s a washtub,” the fat boy answered, 
unblushingly. “ Hi ’ad to use it for the ’ood of 
me car, ye know.” 

“ What you got an anchor for? ” demanded 
Chapin, who had been investigating at the rear 
of the machine. 

“ Hairships ’ave hanchors, and so do boats, 
and this is both, ye know,” was January’s digni- 
fied response. 

“ Now before you start, January, just tell us 
how you expect the thing to* work,” Captain Jack 
suggested. 

“ Hi start ’er up with the sail and the motor, 
ye know,” January replied. “ When she’s going 
fast enough Hi pull this string, so, and the sail 
falls down across these sticks, and the wind and 
the motor together lift me hinto the hair. That’s 
why Hi call ’er the Hemperor of the Hatmosphere, 
ye know! ” 

“I’m thinking you may get lifted into kingdom 
come! ” Terry commented. 

“ Ho, no, sir: Hi’ve calculated, ye know. This 
model hought to lift me, and a haluminum 
machine twice as large, lighter and stronger would 
carry — ” 

“ Another ass,” Horace White put in. 

January stared at him gravely. 

“ Ho, no, Mr. White,” he said. “ Hi wouldn’t 
want to take you, so it ain’t no bloomink use to 
fish for a hinvitation! ” 


124 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Sure you’d better go lie down, Horace,” 
chuckled Terry, Horace himself had laughed. 

“I’m going down to the foot of the hill, that’s 
where, to be ready to pick up the pieces,” he said. 
“ Just about forty seconds after we see him tearing 
down this hill at the rate of sixty miles an hour, 
grinning like an ape with a cocoanut, there’ll 
be — ” 

But here Captain Jack interrupted. January 
was bound to try his invention, and probably his 
cart would go down the hill all right, unless he 
lost his nerve, and forgot the plans he had made 
for controlling it. It was to guard against that 
loss of nerve that Lorimer broke off Horace’s 
remark, which would probably have ended with 
a gloomy prediction. 

“ January’ll come out all right,” he said, loudly 
and cheerfully. “ I guess, though, the foot of 
the hill will be the best place to watch him from, 
and unless we can do something up here to help, 
perhaps we’d better all go down there. Can you 
start her, January? ” he added. 

“ Ho, yes, sir, thank ye, sir,” was the fat boy’s 
answer. “ If you’ll go down there by the back of 
Blodgett’s ’ouse, the place we used to coast to 
last winter, Hi’ll come a-’umming! ” 

He seemed so certain he could handle the thing, 
that finally the fellows,, left him to himself and 
started down to take a position where they could 
see it all. 




THE HEMPEROR 


125 


“ Shall we call out Blackbeard Blodgett and 
his sweet wife, Creepy Moses, to look on? ” Horace 
White asked. 

“I’m thinking January will be making a call on 
them, anyhow,” was Terry’s answer. “ He may 
go down the chimney, or he may go under the 
back steps, but if his wind-up doesn’t come 
somewhere on Blodgett’s territory, ’twill be 
contrary to all the traditions of this band of out- 
laws! ” 

“ There’s no wind to carry him there,” argued 
Horace. “ These little puffs and squalls — ” 

“ He’s off! ” somebody yelled. 

And indeed the fat boy was almost “ off,” in 
another sense, at the very start. As he squatted 
down in his soap box and raised the big sail, a 
gust of wind caught it, and the Emperor of the 
Atmosphere was all but capsized. 

By great good luck the crazy contrivance 
righted itself. At an ever-increasing speed this 
newest terror of the highway swept down the hill, 
its proud and smiling inventor recking naught of 
consequences as he peered over his washtub 
“ hood.” 

But as the fearsome Emperor sped downward, 
anything but majestically — with the rattle 
and crash of a bull in a thina shop, in fact — the 
laughing crowd at the foot of the hill heard some- 
thing else — a sound of movement on the road 
behind them. 


126 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


In an old, old buggy, drawn by an old, old 
horse, Prof. Distress, Blodgett’s new assistant, 
was coming down Woodlawn Street, the street 
that skirted the base of the hill. The reins had 
been in his way, apparently, and he had dropped 
them. He was leaning forward, his nose in a book, 
which he held in both hands, and he had no 
more idea of the presence of the Emperor or the 
boys than if they had been in China. 

But the poor old wreck of a horse was showing 
signs of nervousness, as he heard the terrifying 
sound of January’s descent. Perhaps he would 
summon energy to make a run for it. If he did 
not, it looked an even chance that the Emperor 
and the buggy would come to an end together. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


WHEN THE EMPEROR TOOK PASSENGERS 

Prof. D’Estrees, alias Distress, had been 
spending the night with a fellow-countryman, a 
market gardener, whose place was in a rather 
remote section of Doverdale. Neither steam cars 
nor electrics ran very near, and the professor 
had walked over. 

This morning he thought he must get back to 
Blodgett’s, because he had an appointment; but 
his friend argued, and the professor himself had 
agreed, that it was too hot to walk. And after 
they had debated the situation for half an hour 
or so, it was finally decided that the professor 
should borrow the oldest turnout in his friend’s 
bam, and go home in comfort, even though he 
went slowly. 

To be sure, the professor knew nothing about 
driving; but the horse didn’t need to be driven. 
Just let him alone, and he would amble along at 
the rate of four miles an hour, and stop when he 
got the word. So the professor headed him into 
the right road, and then dropped the reins over 
the front of the buggy and went to reading. 

127 


128 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Until he came opposite Blodgett’s, he had 
scarcely looked up. But it was a swift and terrible 
awakening he had then, when a tremendous, 
united yell smote suddenly upon his ears and, 
glancing around, he saw January’s devil-wagon 
bearing down upon him. 

Then in the same moment the professor and 
the horse did desperate things; for the horse 
ran away, and the professor jumped. 

The horse escaped. But in the very middle of 
his leap the Emperor of the Atmosphere scooped 
up the professor, much as an express engine 
scoops up water. With not enough breath in him 
to utter a squeal, the professor found himself 
spread-eagled, face downward, on the “ hood ” 
of the on-rushing car. 

Found himself! No, he hadn’t the slightest 
idea where he was or what had happened. But 
his sudden descent on January’s vehicle was 
responsible for two things. 

To a considerable extent the car slackened 
speed. His weight did that. Furthermore the 
shock of the collision threw out January’s anchor. 

That bounced once or twice on Woodlawn 
Street. Then, as the cable tautened, it began to 
swing from side to side in the wake of the flying 
Emperor in a manner that fully justified the 
scramble the boys began to make. 

Most of them had been standing on Mr. Lanard’s 
land, between the street and Blodgett’s lot. White 




EMPERORS PASSENGERS 129 


and Ford were farther in from the street than 
the others. As the car clattered down-hill, they 
had rather congratulated themselves on their 
judicious caution. 

But suddenly the swinging anchor struck the 
trunk of a tree and rebounded. Horace White, 
stepping aside to avoid the car, as suddenly 
found a stout rope around his waist. The anchor 
swung round again. Almost before he knew it 
Horace, with great strides, was pounding along 
behind the Emperor. 

And it was in this fashion, with Prof. Distress 
hanging on in front, and Horace in tow, that 
January’s invention flashed across Blodgett’s 
lot. 

“ St-st-stop her, you clown!” roared Horace 
desperately. 

The professor didn’t say much. He had not yet 
recovered his breath. But there was murder in 
his eye as he surveyed January from his uncom- 
fortable position on the “ hood.” 

January might not have heard him, anyway. 
To tell the truth, the fat boy was wondering how 
and where he could dump the professor without 
doing him too much injury. 

“ Stop her! ” yelled Horace White once more, as 
the tow-rope slammed him up against a trellis 
on which the housekeeper had trained her sweet 
peas. A flower bed was the next thing in his 
way, and he took that with a running hop, step 


130 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and jump that any athlete would have been proud 
to match. 

The effort gave him a little slack. Laying hold 
of the rope, he hung back desperately. He didn’t 
seem to accomplish much. But it didn’t really 
matter, for Fate was fixing to do the job of 
stopping the car. 

January looked around. He had realized that 
somebody was towing behind, and he wanted to 
see who it was. In the moment he turned his 
head the Emperor pitched down the embankment 
in front of Blodgett’s lot. 

And this was a place where the professor’s 
weight did have an effect. As he felt the car tip 
forward and downward, he gave a sort of hitch 
and kick to get aboard, or at least to strengthen 
his hold. That was “ the last straw.” As the 
car struck the gutter, over it went, spilling January 
into the gutter on the opposite side and burying 
the professor himself. 

“ Sacr6 nom! Help! Help! I vill die — no 
one shall safe me! ” Prayers and curses and 
threats came alternately in muffled tones from 
under the ruins. But when the fellows dug the 
professor out they found, to their sincere relief, 
that he seemed to have suffered little beyond 
the shock to his nerves, except a bloody nose. 

About that time January sat up and looked 
around in a bewildered way. 

“ Hi forgot to make ’er fly, what? ” he muttered. 


EMPEROR’S PASSENGERS 131 


“ Sure, you made Horace fly, and that looked 
just as pretty! ” chuckled Terry. 

“ Be ’anged if Hi know what ’appened, ye 
know! ” the fat boy went on. But Prof. Distress 
soon told him. 

“ I shall have you arrest! ” the professor cried, 
dancing about and gesticulating fiercely. “ Zis 
outrage shall be atone — to me ! Sc61erat ! Co- 
chon ! Pig-dog ! I bleed my nose — at you — 
for me, for me, Philippe d’Estrees! ” 

But of course matters couldn’t be allowed to 
rest that way, and while Jim Elverton started a 
hunt for the professor’s horse — which, as it 
proved, had not run more than one hundred yards 
before he stopped and went to eating grass by the 
side of the road — Captain Jack was busy explain- 
ing and apologizing to the professor, who finally 
consented to admit satisfaction. 

“To ze fat I say nossing, nossing,’’ he an- 
nounced, with a wave of his hand toward January, 
who was standing and staring disconsolately at 
the wreck of his Emperor. “ But to zis,’’ he 
added, “ zis horrible tremendous — zis monster 
assassinate — I break — I smash! ’’ And if there 
had been much left to smash he probably would 
have smashed it, judging by the way he glared at 
the car. 

“ Cheer up, January! ” Captain Jack said sooth- 
ingly. “ You made a good try at doing something 
original, and it’s better to try and fail than it is 


132 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


to stick in a rut. When father hears about this, 
he’ll think twice as much of you as he did before.” 

“ ’Twas a good try — and ’twas worth watch- 
ing! ” Terry added, with a sober face, but a 
twinkling eye. “ I’m thinking we might take a 
collection and make good for the incidental 
damage — Blodgett’s trellis and Mrs. O’Brien’s 
washtub, and such. Sure, the boy has worked 
hard, and he’s risked his neck, and ’tis not fair 
that we, who had nothing to do but look on and 
admire, should leave all the burdens for him to 
bear! ” 

It was a popular suggestion, and everybody 
seemed glad to accept it. But though Horace 
White, like the others, put his hand in his pocket, 
he added with a kind of laughing growl : “ Seems 
to me I had something to do but look on and 
admire.” 

“ Sure, I thought you were training for the 
next field day! ” Terry answered. “ They were 
fine long leaps you made, Horace! We were just 
waiting to applaud till we saw you go through 
the dining-room window and out the front door! ” 

“Well, I came mighty near it! ’Twasn’t 
January’s fault, though. Accidents will happen. 
Tail on to the rope, now, and we’ll haul his truck 
back to the gym.” 

“ Hi’d like to leave the bloomink stuff right ’ere 
in the gutter! ” said the fat boy, mourn- 
fully. 


EMPEROR’S PASSENGERS 133 


11 Nonsense! What’s the use of lying down 
that way? Take your medicine, standing up, as 
you always have! ” Captain Jack replied. Yet 
January was still gloomy. 

“ Hi didn’t hought to ’ave messed with it,” 
he said. “ Hi hought to ’ave stayed hover at 
Four Corners, ’elpink Huncle Hisaiah ’oe ’is corn! ” 

“ Easy enough to go back,” Jeff Bussey sug- 
gested. “ The only thing that worries me is that 
you fellows won’t stay in camp six or eight weeks, 
instead of only two or three.” 

Probably when it came to the point it would 
have been pretty hard to keep January away 
from Millvale. In fact everybody seemed to be 
thinking a good deal about Millvale — everybody, 
that is, but Lou Mains, who appeared to have 
completely forgotten that he had come for only 
two or three days! Nobody reminded him of the 
change of plan that his meeting with Josie Lee 
had brought about. They didn’t want to run the 
risk of frightening him away; and, as Jack said 
to Terry, he had earned a long vacation. 

But the last days had to come, for Lou as well 
as the others, and before they knew it they were 
loading the baggage into two of Jeff’s big wagons — 
Josie and Harry and a few more of the friends 
looking on, to see the last of it, as they 
said. 

“ Sure this isn’t the last of it! ” Terry amended. 
“ There’ll be some more of it next year, and next 


134 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 

year, and the year after that — unless Jeff gets 
tired of us, and sets on old Jared Peabody to drive 
us away! ” 

“ Oh, I won’t get tired of ye,” Jeff answered 
quietly. But nobody needed any assurances on 
that point after looking into Jeff’s eyes and taking 
his hand. He was one of the friends to be counted 
on. 

“ Hope ye’ll all come again, I do, I swan! ” 
was the unexpected utterance of Uncle Isaiah, 
who had come in charge of one of the wagons. 
That was a compliment the fellows appreciated, 
and they gave Uncle Isaiah three cheers. 

“ Now the tents are down, Horace’s road up 
the ledge sticks out like a sore thumb,” Ned 
Harriott remarked. 

“ We’ll have to come over once in awhile and 
go up there,” Chapin answered. Somehow 
Mains caught Josie’s eye as this was said, and he 
nodded, as if to add, “ We, too.” 

“ All ready, boys,” Jeff said at length. But 
then Captain Jack leaped on a rock beside which 
he had been standing, and signalled for attention. 

“ Three times three and a tiger, first, for the 
fellow who made the camp, and has done most to 
make this fortnight pleasant!” he cried. “All 
whoop her up, now, for Jeff Bussey! ” 

Jeff got his cheers, rousers, and with extras 
added. He took off his hat and looked around 
at the crowd with that slow, wise smile of his. 


EMPEROR’S PASSENGERS 135 


Then, as he glanced up the ledge toward the 
staff the boys had set up, his face sobered into 
earnestness. 

“I’ll keep the flag a-flyin’, boys I ” he said. 


CHAPTER XIX 

TO ENTERTAIN THE FAT BOY’S FAMILY 

It was not in the fat boy’s nature to brood over 
accidents or mistakes, but the failure of the 
Hemperor of the Hatmosphere to accomplish all 
he had hoped was a severe blow to him. He 
missed the camp, Four Corners and Huncle 
Hisaiah, too, and for some days following the 
return to Mill vale he was as nearly gloomy as 
his happy disposition would allow. But there 
came a day when a lad with a yellow envelope 
appeared at the gym; and January, who had 
been standing and gazing soberly at the wildcat, 
suddenly whooped and went up in the air as 
high as his weight permitted. 

“ Tp, ’ip, ’ip, ’ooroar! ” he cried, as the fellows 
turned to look in wonder. “ Me bloomink family’s 
a-comink Tuesday, ye know! ” 

Captain Jack went over to the delighted lad 
and shook hands with him heartily. 

“ Tuesday, eh? ” Lorimer said. “ Couldn’t be 
better. I want to be one of the first to welcome 
your mother and James Henry and the rest, 
but if they were coming earlier I might be dis- 
136 


THE FAT BOY S FAMILY 137 


appointed, for I’m going to the mountains over 
Sunday. 

“ Got it all planned what you’re going to do 
with your people — how you’re going to enter- 
tain them? ” Jack added. January smiled; 
apparently that didn’t bother him a bit. 

“ That’s heasy,” he answered. “ Heverythink’ll 
be so different; the kids’ll be going around with 
their mouths hopen, ye know. But Hi’d like to 
show ma a baseball game, and” — he lowered 
his voice a little — “Hi was a- wondering ’ow 
Royal Burr could ’elp hentertain them, ye 
know! ” 

“ See here, January, don’t you go to trying 
any experiments with the wildcat! ” was Lori- 
mer’s anxious rejoinder. “ Just begin by warning 
your little folks that he’s a dangerous animal, 
and then be sure you let him alone yourself! ” 

“ Hall right, sir.” The fat boy was evidently 
disappointed, but he took it bravely. “ Hi did 
think Hi’d turn ’im loose, so they could see as 
’ow ’e could climb and jump, ye know — ” 

“ Not on any account! ” Lorimer interrupted, 
decisively. “ We don’t want a funeral on our 
hands. You shall have a baseball game, and we’re 
going to give you a little reception and enter- 
tainment in the gym when — well, one of these 
evenings — but you let Royal Burr alone! ” 
January turned his back on the cage, as if to 
signify that he would. 


138 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Hi ’ope Miss May’ll be ’ere! ” he said, after 
a moment. 

“ She will. She and her mother are going to 
New Hampshire this morning, to stay a fort- 
night, but she’s planned to come back for a day 
next week, entirely on your account.” 

It is doubtful if the fat boy realized all this 
meant. May purposed to break into her holiday 
and travel four hundred miles, spending more 
than fourteen hours on the cars, at the expense 
of as many dollars, in order that she might do him 
honour. 

But January wasn’t worrying about that or 
any similar thing, just at present. He was too 
busy. Busy with his preparations, from the 
moment when the telegram arrived ; busier, after 
the family came, with carrying out the plans. 

As Lorimer told the fat boy, about the time 
the telegram was received May went to Bethlehem, 
New Hampshire, to visit her Uncle George Burtis. 
Lorimer was a guest at the Burtis place over 
Sunday, and on Monday May returned to Mill- 
vale with him, solely that she might welcome 
January’s family. 

May and Jack reached town about 6 o’clock at 
night. The Joneses were a little ahead of them; 
and it was said that January had had his family 
over to see the diamond, the gym, and the wild- 
cat, before they, had been in Millvale an hour. 

To James Henry, who had already visited Mill- 


THE FAT BOY’S FAMILY 139 


vale, all this was an old story. To Mother Jones 
and her little daughter, everything was strange 
and not easily to be comprehended. But January’s 
twin brothers, boys smaller than himself, were 
fascinated with what they saw, and promptly 
took possession. 

There was little that they understood, but they 
had the spirit of explorers and they were willing 
to take chances in order to learn the uses of things. 
Within ten minutes Lou Mains had to rescue them 
from a shower-bath in one of the dressing-rooms. 
They had pulled the cord, failed to realize that 
they ought to let go, and were standing under the 
torrent, drenched, but smiling. It is needless to 
add that Lou also smiled. 

From all accounts, the younger Joneses would 
have been willing to stay on the spot, but Ma Jones 
had to eat, so the fat boy allowed them to return 
to O’Brien’s. Promptly at 7 o’clock, however, 
they were all back at the gym, and there, a little 
later, May and Jack found them. 

James Henry bowed low to May, and then, his 
frank and manly face shining with pleasure, put 
out his hand to Captain Jack. 

“ I landed ’em all, you see! ” he said. “ ’Ere’s 
the whole family on the way to set up ’ousekeeping 
in British Columbia. 

“ Mother — ” But January got ahead of him. 

“ Miss May, Hi’ll make us hacquainted with 
me ma, and Hoscar Haugustus, and Halbert 


140 JACK LORIMER/S HOLIDAYS 


Hedward, and me sister June! ” he said, with 
great dignity, but all in a breath. 

Mrs. Jones was a plump little woman, with 
soft blue eyes and a gentle manner, a woman 
who looked wonderfully young to be, as she had 
been, the mother of twelve — and a real mother, 
too, as everybody had found out long ago, from 
the way that January talked of her. 

Of course everything in this country was 
novel to her yet, and the trip across the ocean 
had been a rather upsetting experience, and she 
hardly knew where she was or what to say; but 
May soon put her at her ease, and the little woman 
was very frank about her hopes and fears. 

“ I wish James ’Enry’s ’ome was nearer the old 
one,” she said. “ But ’e wants his ma, and he’s 
willing to do for the younger ones, and so ’e 
ought to ’ave his way — 

“ Hoscar Haugustus, dear! ” she interrupted 
herself to call, “ please go away from that — 
that houtrageous beast ! ” She meant the wildcat, 
which was just on the point of flashing out a paw 
and skinning the small boy from shoulder to 
elbow. 

“ January has brothers all over the world, he 
tells me,” May observed. 

“Yes, dear, you might well say that. The 
boys as comes between ’im and James ’Enry, 
five of ’em living, are two in Australia and two 
more in South Africa, and one in Hongkong, 


THE FAT BOY’S FAMILY 141 


China. Good boys they are, as all my children 
’ave been, but they’re not well-to-do, you know, 
so — 

“ Halbert Hedward, dear! ” This was addressed 
to the other small boy, who had placidly perched 
on the top of the tallest ladder in the gym. “ Be 
careful you don’t fall and split your ’ead! ” 

“ Those two are twins? ” May asked. 

“ Yes, dear, and they’re near eight. Junie, the 
only girl amongst twelve, ten living and two dead, 
and my youngest, she’s over five.” 

“ She’s the honly sister Hi’ve got, ye know! ” 
January explained, pointing at the little girl, who 
was agreeably busy with the first corn-ball she 
had ever eaten. 

“ But you’ve got brothers, dear,” his mother 
reminded him. In fact, she did not dare take her 
eyes from his brothers, the twins, who were inves- 
tigating, one after another, all the dangerous 
places in the gym ; and when she saw that Halbert 
Hedward was perseveringly endeavouring to find 
a way to get up on the trapeze, with Hoscar 
Haugustus starting to walk the railing around the 
gallery, she threw up her hands, as it were. 

“ January,” she said, “ don’t you want to take 
your little brothers outdoors, dear? If they’re 
playing hon the ground, they can’t fall hoff, don’t 
you know! ” 

“ It pleases us to know that January may 
remain here in Millvale,” May suggested. “We 


142 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


have grown very fond of him, and we think we 
can help him to make a good start in life.” 

The little mother viewed her with shining 
eyes. 

“ I know ’ow kind you’ve been to ’im,” she 
answered. “Oh, yes, I know! If I was a — a 
millionairess, I wouldn’t ’ave any excuse to take 
’im away from Millvale.” 

From time to time, as the boys dropped into 
the gym, Jack or Lou Mains or James Henry 
himself brought them up and introduced them 
to the mother; and, not to omit the old boys, 
Seth Lanard appeared, when the evening was half 
over, and went at James Henry as if he wanted 
to hug him. 

“ Glad to see ye, James Henry, I am, by 
gum! ” he roared. “Now where’s that good 
mother of yours? I’m proud to meet ye, Mis’ 
Jones! He’s a fine boy, January is, and we 
couldn’t get along without him! 

“ What ye goin’ to do for these folks, to make 
it pleasant for ’em, hey? ” he added, as Captain 
Jack came near. 

“ We’re going to play a game of ball, at Jan- 
uary’s request, so that his mother can see what 
it’s like,” Lorimer answered, smilingly. “ That’ll 
be to-morrow afternoon. To-morrow evening 
comes the exhibition you and January arranged, 
and January himself has planned the programme 
for Thursday and Friday. Saturday, our friends 


THE FAT BOY'S FAMILY 143 


are going to the country, to Jeff Bussey’s place, 
out at Four Corners.” 

“ We’ll try to give ye a good time,” Mr. Lanard 
said. He spoke to James Henry, but his fas- 
cinated gaze was on the twins, who were risking 
their eyes and limbs in front of the wildcat’s 
cage. “ Your mother will want to take it easy for 
a day or two, but we’ll make things just as lively 
as ye want, for the rest of ye.” 

That was superfluous, however. As Mr. Lanard 
and the others soon found, the Jones twins, 
unaided, could make things lively. 


CHAPTER XX 


FROM BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 

Having shown her friendliness as clearly as 
any one could, by coming back to Millvale to 
meet January’s mother, May returned to Bethle- 
hem. Captain Jack put May on board the train 
at Boston, with the wish that either she was not 
going or that he was going too, and then hurried 
back to Millvale, to get together his teams for 
the exhibition game of ball which January had 
been so anxious for his mother to see. 

It was easy enough to make up the nines, of 
course. In fact, they were all made up when 
January came around, in a shame-faced fashion, 
and made an extraordinary request. One of his 
little brothers, Hoscar Haugustus, wanted to 
play ! 

“ Has he ever seen a game of baseball? ” 
Lorimer inquired, doing his best to hide a laugh. 

“ Well, ’e saw some scrub hout ’ere yesterday 
hafternoon,” January answered. “ It’s a ’igh 
hold game, ’e says, and ’e wants to be in it, ye 
know. ’E says ’e can play, ye know! ” 

“ Think he’d have sense enough to dodge if 
144 


BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 145 


somebody happened to hit a hot liner his way? ” 
Captain Jack went on. 

“ Of course ’e wouldn’t dodge! ” January said, 
rather wrathfully. “ ’E’d try to stop the ball. If 
Hi thought ’e’d dodge, H’d skin ’im alive, blow 
me! ” 

Lorimer chuckled at that. But, though he 
sympathized with the fat boy’s feelings, it didn’t 
alter the fact that Oscar Augustus would be 
running a risk. 

“ I don’t know about this, January,” he said. 
“I’d like to please your little brother, of course, 
but I’m afraid he might get his head knocked off, 
going into a game he knows nothing about. Sup- 
pose you see what your mother says. If she’s 
willing to take chances — ” 

“ Ho, yus, she’s been a-taking ’em hever since 
the twins were born , ’ ’ was the placid reply. “You 
put ’im in at short — that’s the position Hi’m 
a-going to play, ye know, hafter Hi’ve trained 
down — and Hi bet you ’e plays a bloomink fine 
game, what! ” 

And, seeing that Ma Jones didn’t object, and 
the players seemed to think it a great joke, 
Captain Jack put Oscar Augustus down for 
shortstop of his own nine, earnestly hoping that 
nothing would happen to him. 

Behold, therefore, Ma Jones occupying the best 
seat in the grand stand, with James Henry on 
one side of her and June Jones and Albert Edward 


146 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


on the other — James Henry being there to tell 
her what it was all about. 

Lorimer’s nine went into the field, Oscar 
Augustus, who was proportionately as short as 
January, though by no means as stout, looking 
like a minnow among whales. Tom Bell, who 
was captaining the other nine, went to the bat. 
And, as luck would have it, the first ball he reached 
for went down to the little Jones boy. 

January danced up and down and yelled frantic 
messages as Tom started for first. 

“ Hi, hi, stop it, Hoscar Haugustus! ” he cried. 
“ Stop it and slam it hinto first! Good stop! 
Up to first now — the white - ’eaded feller with 
the long nose! ’Urryhup! Get a move hon! ” 

It was a grounder of the deceptive sort that 
was sent to Oscar Augustus. It didn’t look to 
be travelling very fast, and, judging its direction 
very well, he stooped over, put his hands together 
scoop fashion, fingers to the earth, and waited 
for the ball to come in. 

It came, but he wasn’t quite prompt enough 
in closing on it. The ball just walked up his 
sleeve, caught him on the nose and dropped to 
the ground again. 

Oscar Augustus clutched his nose with one hand 
and the ball with the other, and looked around 
to see what he should do. Tom Bell was taking 
chances and had come halfway to second. The 
boy remembered what January said, and took it 


BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 147 


to mean that he should throw the ball to the first 
man, the nearest. That was Reed, who was 
standing over against second bag, signalling 
frantically. Oscar Augustus put it to him, and 
just in time. 

“ Hout! Runner’s hout! ” January roared, 
dancing up and down again. “ You ’elped put a 
man hout, Hoscar Haugustus! Bully for you! 
Do it some more! ” 

Ma Jones looked down anxiously on the 
diamond. 

“ I ’ope little brother didn’t forget his manners 
when he ’elped put a man out, as January says! ” 
she murmured. James Henry grinned. 

“ Oh, no, ma, it’s all in the game,” he answered, 
soothingly. “ He did very well.” 

There was not so much to be said for Oscar 
Augustus’s batting, when his turn came. Ben 
Cashman, who was pitching for the other nine, 
gave him the easiest ones he knew how to put 
over the plate, but they were moving too swiftly 
for a novice to gauge, and whenever the Jones 
boy reached for one it proved to have just gone by. 

“ Why doesn’t ’e ’it it, James Henry? ” Ma 
Jones wanted to know 

“ Because he can’t, ma,” the eldest son ex- 
plained. “ The fellow who throws the ball tries 
to throw so the batter can’t hit.” 

“ I don’t think that’s fair! ” Ma Jones said, 
firmly, “ Why, Hoscar Haugustus wants to ’it 


148 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


it! See! I’m ’most afraid ’e’ll ’urt ’imself! ” 
And she leaned forward and called to the small 
boy at the plate. 

“ Don’t strain yourself with reaching, Hoscar 
Haugustus, dear! ” she cried. 

Of course all the fellows had to grin at that, 
though they concealed it pretty well. James 
Henry chuckled. 

“ Never you worry, ma. He’s all right,” he 
said. 

He was all right, anyway, when next it came his 
turn, for Ben Cashman was bound he should get 
a hit, for the sake of the spectator up there in the 
grand stand, and he aimed at Hoscar Haugustus’s 
bat. At the third attempt he struck it, and the 
ball dropped in front of the plate and rolled a 
few feet toward his box, while Oscar Augustus, 
yelled at by January, sprinted away. 

“ Now you’re off ! ” January roared. “ Right 
down to the long-legged feller with the big ears! 
(This was Elverton, at first.) You can beat it! 
Go it, Hoscar Haugustus! Run, ’op, jump, fly, 
slide ! Y ou’re safe ! ’ ’ 

He was, indeed, for Cashman meant him to be, 
and was laughing so hard that he reached for the 
ball two or three times before he managed to pick 
it up. And when next he put it over, Ned Har- 
riott contributed a passed ball for the benefit of 
the base-runner, and, with the help of that, 
January coached Oscar Augustus up to third. 


BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 149 


Of course James Henry saw through the plot, 
and it amused as well as pleased him; but his 
mother, though she did not realize just what 
was happening, got rather excited as she watched 
her son’s progress. 

“ What’s ’e doing it for, James ’Enry? ” she 
asked. “ There’s no one a-chasing ’im! ” 

“ He’s running to get in.” 

“ Get in what? ” 

“ If he comes clear around to where he started 
from, it counts one for ’is side,” James Henry 
explained. 

Meanwhile, with Oscar Augustus on third, 
Captain Jack had gone to the bat. 

“ ’It ’er hout, Mr. Lorimer, sir! ” entreated 
January. “ Hoscar Haugustus will score if you 
do, you know I 

“ Hall ready, now, Hoscar Haugustus! ” he 
called to his brother. “ When ’e ’its ’er hout, 
you start! ” And as Lorimer did hit her out, 
Oscar Augustus tore up the baseline as if a thou- 
sand fiends were after him, to where January 
waited to welcome him proudly and pat him on 
the back. 

“ Is that the hend of the game, James ’Enry? ” 
demanded Ma Jones, excitedly. 

“Oh, no.” 

“ Then I want to see Hoscar Haugustus do it 
again!” she added; and, leaning forward, she 
sent her voice over the diamond once more. 


150 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Hoscar Haugustus, I want you to do it 
again! ” she called. 

Of course this was good for another round of 
smiles and stifled laughter, in which James Henry 
joined, as he explained : 

“ He couldn’t do it anyway, until his turn 
comes, ma.” 

Yet there were other things Oscar Augustus 
could do — because he didn’t know any better — 
and he did one of them in the next half, when 
Horace White was trying to make third. 

On a line hit, which was not a very savage one, 
the ball got into the Jones boy’s hands just as 
Horace passed him. The few things Oscar 
Augustus had learned about the game mixed in 
his mind, then and there. * 

He had understood that the ball ought to get 
ahead of the base-runner. He had heard, also, 
that the base-runner ought to be touched by the 
ball. On the spur of the moment he couldn’t 
quite see how to reconcile these two requirements, 
so he carried out the easiest one. When Horace 
was not more than ten feet away, Oscar Augustus 
let drive the ball with all his might. It took 
Horace in the small of the back. 

What with surprise and shock, White gasped, 
and almost stopped ; but of course after a second 
of hesitation he put on speed again and got in the 
run. 

“ Say, Tom, this isn’t baseball, it’s man- 


BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 151 


slaughter! ” he remarked to Bell, as he went back 
to the bench and started to rub the sore place. 

“ Oh, well, as long as she sees the small boy 
busy doing something, ' Ma Jones will think it’s 
a great game, and we’re out to amuse her, you 
know,” Tom answered, calmly. “ Let Oscar 
Augustus take an axe, if he wants to.” 

But it is only fair to the Jones twin to say that 
this was his last bad break. January’s coaching 
helped straighten out his ideas, and he kept a 
sharp eye on everybody’s work, and by the 
time the game ended he had a pretty clear notion 
of at least what not to do. 

And his side won, n to io, so of course Ma 
Jones was pleased with the pastime, and thought 
her son a wonderful player. 

“ But don’t ’urry so, when you play again, 
Hoscar Haugustus,” she said, as the perspiring 
youth came back to tell her all about it. ‘‘You 
could finish the game to-morrow, you know.” 

Ma Jones must have been thinking about 
cricket — and overlooking the propensities of 
small boys ; for, where the twins were concerned, 
it seemed doubtful, many times a day, whether 
they would ever see “ to-morrow.” 

Yet the baseball game had afforded Oscar 
Augustus an opportunity to let off steam, and he 
was willing to be reasonably quiet for the re- 
mainder of the day. Albert Edward was yet to 
be heard from, however ; and since he was capable 


152 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


of almost anything, from roosting at the top of 
the flagpole to dynamiting the gym, he was 
placed in charge of January, under strict orders; 
and at the cost of much physical and mental 
strain, the fat boy kept his brother alive until 
night. 

There were “ great doings ” planned for that 
evening. It had been January’s own idea to 
have a display of fireworks for part of the welcome 
to his family, and Mr. Lanard, to whom he first 
mentioned it, had thought a minute, laughed, 
and then sent his agent to the city in company 
with the fat boy to select an assortment. January 
had five dollars to spend, and he wondered at the 
quantity he got. If he had known how much 
Mr. Lanard quietly added to that sum, he would 
have wondered less. 

It was so large and elaborate an assortment 
that the dealers sent out a man to handle it. 
He set up his frames and stands at the foot of 
the diamond, with things so arranged that the 
rockets would fall in the vacant lots on the 
other side of the street; and, as darkness 
deepened, Ma Jones and her family, together with 
a good many of the girl friends of the club and 
not a few of the members, took seats in the grand 
stand. 

A rocket soared into the air like a line of living 
flame and left behind a trail of golden dust. A 
bomb ascended, burst with a tremendous report 


BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 153 


and released a shower of stars. A Roman candle 
discharged its many-coloured burden — and then 
Ma Jones discovered that Albert Edward was 
missing. 

He had been right at her side a minute before, 
so it didn’t seem as if he could have gone far. 
But Albert Edward was active and enterprising, 
like his twin, and though Ma Jones had learned 
by experience that it was no use to worry about 
him, she wondered, as she watched the show, 
what kind of mischief he had started to get into. 

Albert Edward wouldn’t have put it that way. 
He wasn’t in mischief. He had just gone over 
to help the man set off the fireworks. 

So small was Albert Edward, and so noiseless 
his movements, that the fireworks man didn’t 
realize he had an assistant until all of a sudden 
a rocket whizzed by his ear. He jumped, of 
course. Then he turned around suddenly, to see 
a boy holding a lighted taper dangerously near a 
box of Roman candles. 

“ Quit, you brat! ” he yelled. “ Here, gimme 
that and get out! ” 

“ I want to do some! ” was Albert Edward’s 
firm reply. He stepped just out of reach, and 
the fireworks man, as he glared at the wiry figure, 
had a suspicion that if it came to a chase he 
wouldn’t be so easy to catch. 

“ Hold that light away, confound you! ” he 
roared. Albert Edward sidestepped again. The 


154 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


fireworks man was just on the point of making a 
rush to disperse the intruder, when it occurred 
to him that an easier way would be to make use 
of him. 

The next feature on the programme was what 
they poetically called “ the charge of the light 
brigade.” It was nothing more than a flight of 
rockets, but it was necessary that all the rockets 
should be set off at once, and here the boy could 
help. The fireworks man motioned him forward. 

“ Say, you can light these, if you’ll be careful,” 
he said. “ No, not yet! Jiminey crickets, kid, 
look out for that torch ! When I count three and 
say ‘ Now,’ you just run your light along this 
row, see? ” 

Albert Edward nodded. His eyes were shining 
as he looked over toward the sombre mass of the 
grand stand and thought how proud ma would 
be if she could see him now! 

“ All ready? ” said the fireworks man. “ One, 
two, thr — Great Jupiter, kid, what’d you set 
fire to that time? ” 

It was Albert Edward’s own knickerbockers 
that were burning, where he had absent-mindedly 
swung the torch against them; but he calmly 
slapped at the odorous sparks until there was 
nothing left but a bad smell, and stood at attention 
again. 

“ We’ll have another try,” said his instructor. 
“ All ready? One, two, three, now! ” A double 


BASEBALL TO PYROTECHNICS 155 


line of rockets charged up into the air, and the 
sound of applause rolled out from the grand 
stand. 

“You did noble, kid!” was the fireworks 
man’s verdict. “ Now you may light that one, 
if you want.” And he pointed out another piece. 

Thus for twenty minutes or more Albert Edward 
danced from one place to another, touching off 
the pieces as the man set them up, and having a 
lovely time. He was decorated with dirt and 
bums and bruises, he was dog-tired, and he 
didn’t even have time to glance toward the 
grand stand people he was working so hard to 
amuse, but he wouldn’t have changed his place for 
a kingdom. 

And then, all of a sudden, while he was thinking 
what fun it was, somehow his grip relaxed, and 
his torch dropped into the box of Roman candles ! 

“Down on your face, kid!” yelled the fire- 
works man, as he flung himself flat. Albert 
Edward dropped. 

Then the candles got busy. Some of them 
sputtered and thudded against the box. Some 
evidently ascended, as they were meant. One sent 
a ball through Albert Edward’s hair, and another 
ball — judging by the language — raked the back 
of the fireworks man’s neck. There was a warm 
time for a minute or two. When it was all over, 
the fireworks man rose to his feet with a sigh of 
relief. 




156 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ I guess that’ll about do you, kid,” he said. 
" Here, you may light this — lay it so-fashion — 
and then start for home.” Albert Edward 
lighted it. 

Now the thing had been headed away from him 
as he put it down, but as he stood off a little one 
side to watch it, it suddenly flopped around on 
the grass and started toward him. He took 
another step to one side and stared with fascinated 
eyes. 

It moved again ! He turned toward the grand 
stand, looking over his shoulder. The thing had 
made another twist, and was coming after him 
with increased speed. Every time he dodged, 
it seemed to meet his movements. 

Albert Edward had never seen a “ nigger- 
chaser.” That was why his eyes began to pop 
out — why his leisurely movements changed to 
a fast walk, and then to a run — and why at 
last, bellowing with rage and terror, he fairly 
flew over the ground to reach the protection of 
Ma Jones. 


CHAPTER XXI 


TOM, DICK, GLADYS, AND A MISTAKE 

On Thursday the Joneses enjoyed day fire- 
works, so to speak, at January’s expense. That 
is to say, he loaded his mother and the three 
younger children into a double-seated carriage, 
and showed them everything of interest in Mill- 
vale and Doverdale — treating them to lavish 
refreshments along the way. 

Besides exhibiting the two cities to them, he 
exhibited them to the two cities; in Doverdale, 
stopping his disgusted horse every five minutes 
in order to summon some athlete forward and 
introduce the family, and in Mill vale taking them 
to make several calls. Jeff Bussey would be in 
Millvale on the next day, and on Saturday he 
would take the Joneses back to the farm. 

With pleasure Lorimer also looked forward 
to his arrival, since Jeff was about the only real 
“ stand-by ” he would have in the school — so far 
as could be told at present. And when Bussey 
did come to town, bright and early Friday morn- 
ing, he took hold of affairs with a vigour and 
intelligence that showed how valuable he would be. 

157 


158 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Terry’s in Boston, you say? Well, then, 
let’s hunt up Tom Bell,” Jeff suggested. “ Tom 
was always a good friend to boys in our lower 
classes, same as you’ve been, and likely enough 
he’d be able to remind us of material he’s had an 
eye on — fellows worth workin’ with, who didn’t 
come out for athletics last year because, maybe, 
there was such a crowd of us.” 

“ Good idea, Jeff! We’ll see him right away,” 
Lorimer answered. But, as he soon discovered, 
the meeting would have to be postponed. Tom 
had borrowed an auto belonging to a cousin of 
his and gone off alone for a little spin. 

Alone! Lorimer wondered, when he heard 
that; and yet the explanation was simple enough. 
Tom was planning to loaf along the road, get into 
Roxbridge about dark, and invite Marion Wood- 
side and her aunt — not that he cared particularly 
about the aunt! to ride with him. 

Unfortunately, that was not Tom’s lucky day. 
He had a break-down before he had gone very far, 
wasted more than an hour in tinkering the motor 
so it would run, and then, to add to his per- 
plexities, got “ turned round ” and lost his way. 

It was some time before he realized he was 
lost, and then the matter was made worse by two 
fellows of whom he asked directions, and who, 
either unintentionally or deliberately, headed 
him wrong. Twilight was drawing near when he 
finally pulled up at the side of the road, opposite 


TOM, DICK, GLADYS 


159 


the entrance to a large estate, and, rubbing his 
chin thoughtfully, pondered his next move. 

The easiest course would be to return to Mill- 
vale. When he got to Roxbridge, it might be too 
late to call on Marion. But Tom was the kind of 
fellow whose spine begins to stiffen when he meets 
an obstacle, and he made up his mind pretty 
promptly that, having started for Roxbridge, he 
would reach Roxbridge “ or bust.” 

He glanced across the road. Then he sent his 
auto over, well out of the highway. The people 
in a house like that which he saw at the end of 
the drive owned every kind of turnout, of course, 
and he would throw himself on their sympathy 
as a fellow traveller, and find out exactly where 
he was and how to get where he wanted to go. 

The double gate in the carriage drive seemed 
to be locked; but back a little distance was a 
smaller gate swung invitingly open upon a path 
for foot passengers. Tom walked in. 

Not very far, however. Hardly was he inside 
the gate when two men who had evidently been 
lying concealed behind the hedge flung themselves 
upon him. They dealt no blows. Apparently 
all they wanted was to capture him. But Tom 
didn’t stop to thank them for that. Taken by 
surprise though he was, he struck out with hands 
and feet, and all three went down together. 

“ Hold his legs! ” one of the assailants gasped 
to the other. “ I’ve got his arms.” 


160 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


That wasn’t quite true. But just as he spoke 
he did get one, or rather the fist at the end. It took 
him in the jaw and shut his teeth upon his tongue 
with a force that almost clipped off the end of it. 

With a growl of rage and pain, the fellow once 
more hurled himself forward. This time he 
planted himself on Tom’s chest. 

“ Say, see here! ” the other muttered. “We 
had our orders not to hurt you, just bring you into 
the house so the boss could look you over and 
talk to you about Miss Gladys; but if you want 
to be knocked out first, why, you can be, see? ” 

“ Who do you think I am? ’’ Tom asked. 

“ Who? Why, you’re the bloke that had it all 
framed up to run off with Miss Gladys to-night 
and marry her. Old Marlow’s caught on.” 

Tom chuckled, chuckled so hard that the fellow 
who was sitting on his chest looked down at him 
in surprise. 

“ See here, boys,” Tom said, “ you’ve made a 
mistake, but since you’re trying to do your duty, 
as you understand it, I don’t feel like rowing with 
you. All you want is that I should go up to 
the house and meet the boss kidnapper himself? 
Very well, let’s go! ” 

“No quick punch and no break-away on the 
road? ” said one of his captors, suspiciously. 

“ Not any! Hold my arms, if you want to,” 
was Bell’s cheerful answer. 

And it was in that fashion, with a husky farm- 


TOM, DICK, GLADYS 


161 


hand gripping each arm, that Tom was ushered 
into the presence of Mr. Edward Marlow, a fat, 
red-faced, white-haired old fellow, who was 
ramping up and down his dining-room more like 
a crazy man than a solid citizen. Nor was his 
temper improved by the smile with which Bell 
surveyed him. 

“ So you’re the scoundrel, eh? ” he roared. Tom 
shook his head. 

“ No such name on my visiting-card,” he said. 
“ Whom do you expect to see, if I may ask? ” 

“ Aren’t you a fellow named Somers — the 
villain my silly daughter planned to run away 
with to-night? ” 

Tom shook his head. But old Marlow still 
glared at him suspiciously. 

“ I don’t believe you! ” he shouted. 

“ Jane! ” he yelled in the same breath. He 
touched the bell, and a maid came in, so promptly 
that it seemed she must have been listening at the 
keyhole. 

“ Jane,” he ordered, “ take this key, unlock 
the door of Miss Gladys’s room, and ask her to 
come to the dining-room for a moment. 

“ Now, young man! ” he added, with a veno- 
mous glance at Tom. “ We’ll see what your 
deluded victim has to say. If I’ve made a mistake 
— well, I’ll consider that, when the times comes. 
If I haven’t — you may prepare yourself for a 
sound horsewhipping! ” 


162 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Tom bowed politely. The smile was still on 
his face, and the longer old Marlow watched him 
the wilder he got. 

It was quite dark by this time. The curtains 
had been drawn and the lamps lighted just as Tom 
was brought in, and while the master of the house 
clumped around the room, scowling at every- 
thing and everybody, he suddenly had an idea. 

“ Stand the villain over there, where he’ll be 
in the light when the girl opens the door,” he said 
to his men. “ Turn him loose — I mean, stand 
away from him. There’s no fear he’ll escape 
until we’re ready to let him.” 

Tom laughed. He was enjoying the whole 
thing immensely. 

“ Oh, don’t worry about me,” he said as the 
men moved away. “ I shall be delighted to be 
exhibited to your daughter — Miss Gladys, I 
think you said? — and, happily, I can allow you 
time to make apologies afterward. I had in- 
tended to go to Roxbridge, but — ” 

“Yes, I know you had,” the old man snarled. 
“ The letter I intercepted told me that. But I 
don’t think my daughter will go with you! 

“Ah, here she is! ” he added. “Well, young 
woman, you see I caught the rascal who undertook 
to marry you without consulting me! Anything 
to say about it? ” 

The newcomer was a very pretty girl. There 
was frank admiration in Tom’s eyes as they 


TOM, DICK, GLADYS 


163 


rested upon her charming face and daint} 7, figure. 
But it was only a blank and puzzled stare that she 
turned upon him. 

Suddenly, however, her expression altered. A 
look of deepest grief overspread her face. To 
Bell’s intense amazement, she ran over and threw 
her arms around his neck. 

“ Oh, Dick, Dick! ” she sobbed. “ Be brave, 
for my sake! ” And then, as if overcome by 
emotion, she rushed from the room. 

Old Marlow chuckled. The young man was 
staring after her as if stupefied. 

“ She couldn’t very well help identifying you, 
you know,” the old man said. “ Since she has 
done so, it’s hardly worth while to tell any more 
lies, is it? I think we may as well proceed to the 
main feature of the entertainment. Give me the 
horsewhip, Jotham! ” 

Then Tom waked up. He seized a heavy oak 
chair and swung it once or twice to get the 
“ feel ” of it. 

“You old ass!” he cried. “I don’t know 
what your daughter’s game is, but I suspect, and 
I hope she wins it! My name is no more Dick 
Somers than yours is. I’m Thomas Henderson 
Bell, of 65 Woodlawn Street, Millvale, and I 
stopped at your gate, worse luck, to ask about 
the road to Roxbridge. There’s my memorandum 
book, with my name on the fly-leaf, and there are 
half a dozen letters.” He flung them on the table. 


164 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“Now come on with your horsewhip, if you 
think you’d better! ” he added, savagely. “ I 
warn you, though, there’ll be some heads broken 
before you strike me with it! ” And he backed 
to a position where it would be hard to “ rush ” 
him, and gave his weapon a warning twirl. 

The old man looked from Tom to the letters, 
and from the letters back at Tom. Finally he put 
out a hand and turned over the heap, and read 
the addresses. Then he took another look at 
Tom, and coughed nervously. 

“I — I — Is it possible that — But why 
should my daughter call you ‘ Dick’? ” he stam- 
mered. 

Tom laughed scornfully. “ Aren’t you smart 
enough to guess? ” he retorted. 

Old Marlow meekly shook his head. 

“ If she made you think that I was her lover,” 
Tom explained, “ nobody would bother to watch 
her, since I was under guard. Understand the 
situation, now? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Then she could use the opportunity to keep 
her appointment with Dick Somers,” Tom added, 
with a cheerful grin. “ I hope she did! ” 

Old Marlow went into the air like a jumping- 
jack. 

“ Jane! ” he roared, “ see if my daughter is in 
her room. If she isn’t, go over the house, and if 
you find her, lock her up. Jotham, search the 


TOM, DICK, GLADYS 


165 


grounds. Berry, put Busy Bee to the light buggy 
and Midas to the sulky, and bring them both 
around.” 

But the servants moved very slowly, so slowly 
that it seemed they must be in sympathy with 
their young mistress. Berry, in fact, did not 
move at all. 

“You know the hosses ain’t fit to take out, 
either of ’em, Mr. Marlow,” he said. “ I told 
you yesterday that Bee was lame, and Midas cast 
a shoe when you had him out this afternoon.” 

Another spell of stamping and roaring followed, 
part of it being due to Jane, who returned to 
report that Miss Gladys was nowhere in the 
house. Tom interrupted when the racket became 
tiresome. 

“ Any objection to my attending to my own 
business, now? ” he asked. 

The old man turned and stared, as if he had 
forgotten a stranger was present. Very likely, 
so upset was he, that was actually the case. But 
as he gazed an eager light flashed into his 
eyes. 

“ How did you come here? What conveyance 
had you? ” he demanded. 

“ I had an auto — which has probably been 
stolen or smashed by this time,” Tom answered. 

“You see my difficulty,” old Marlow went on 
rapidly. “ I want to pursue my daughter and 
fetch her back. I must act at once. I will make 


166 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


ample amends for your detention, only lend me 
or sell me your car! ” 

“ I’ll see you hanged first ! ” was Tom’s 
reply. 


CHAPTER XXII 

THE BEST MAN OF THE ELOPERS 

Old Marlow didn’t seem to comprehend that 
Tom’s refusal was seriously meant. He was used 
to having his own way, and he stared as if he 
doubted the evidence of his ears. 

‘'I — I say I’ll buy your car! ” he repeated. 

“ You haven’t money enough! ” Tom answered 
as he strode toward the door. “If I felt like 
mixing in the mess at all, I should be more inclined 
to help a girl get away from a wild man like 
you! ” 

Instantly the master of the house struck out 
on a new tack. 

“ Jotham! Berry! ” he bellowed. “ Run to 
Mr. Crosby’s and Mr. Whipple’s and borrow any 
kind of turnout they’ll lend! Jane, tell Mr. 
William to come to me at once! Hurry, all of 
you! ” 

Tom passed in the hall, as he went out, a tall 
young man who had a look of the girl, and was 
probably Marlow’s son. But though young 
Marlow glanced curiously at the stranger, he did 
167 


168 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


not speak. No one barred Tom’s departure, and, 
reaching the place where he had left his auto, he 
found, to his satisfaction, that no one had meddled 
with that. He jumped in and made ready to 
start. 

“ Hey! Hey! Mr. Bell! Hold on a minute! ” 

It was the voice of one of the men who had 
captured him, and, looking back, Tom saw two 
shadowy figures running down the path from the 
house. He seized a big wrench and put himself 
on the defensive. 

“Hello! Hunting more trouble?” he said, 
sharply. 

“ No, sir. Just want to tell you we’re sorry for 
our share of the muss,” was Jotham’s answer, as 
he and Berry came forward. 

“ You said you wanted the road to Roxbridge? ” 
he went on. “Well, we can help you. Keep on 
as you’re going for about a mile. The road forks 
at a big red bam that sets close to it, and then 
you turn to the left. And say! If you meet 
Miss Gladys and her young man, tell ’em we wish 
’em luck! ” 

“Yes, you’ve been acting like it!” Tom 
rejoined, grimly. 

“ Now, don’t you make any mistake about 
that,” Jotham argued. “ If you’d turned out to 
be Mr. Somers instead of Mr. Bell, I cal’late you 
and the girl would have got away just the same. 
We’d fixed it with Jane. But we want to pretend 


THE BEST MAN 


169 


to stand in with the old man, as far’s we can, 
because he pays good wages, and in most ways 
he ain’t a bad boss, see? ” 

“ I see,” laughed Tom. “ It’s all right, so far 
as I’m concerned, and good-bye to you.” 

The moon was rising. It would be lighter, 
pretty soon, and in every way a delightful evening, 
and he began to hope he might get to Roxbridge 
in time at least to speak to Marion, even if it was 
too late for their ride. 

Feeling pretty sure of his road, now, he sent 
the auto at good speed. The mile to the forks 
was soon covered; he made the turn to the left, 
and had gone perhaps a couple of miles in the 
new direction, when a light that seemed to be 
stationary caused him to slow up. 

Apparently there had been an accident. A 
carriage was overturned at the side of the road, 
and the horse, still snorting and trembling, was 
hitched to a tree near by. A young man was busy 
about the wreck. A young woman stood watch- 
ing. 

“ Hello! ” Tom sang out. “Anything I can 
do for — ” 

Then he stopped short, partly from surprise 
and in part from resentment, for as she came 
within range of his headlight he saw that the 
young woman was old Marlow’s daughter, the 
girl who, by hailing him as “ Dick,” had very 
nearly got him horsewhipped. 


170 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


She recognized him also, a minute later. Blush- 
ing rosy red, she turned to her companion. 

“ Dick,” she murmured, “ I think this is the 
gentleman I — I — Oh, I told you about it! ” 
she ended, desperately. “ Will you apologize for 
my — my action and — and — ” 

Dick Somers laughed as he came forward, hold- 
ing out his hand. He was a clean-cut young fellow, 
with an open, honest face, and the sincere and 
hearty manner that makes friends, and Tom took 
to him at once. 

“ My name’s Somers,” he said. “ I purpose to 
marry this young lady — provided we ever get 
to Roxbridge! I think you’ll pardon the decep- 
tion she practised at your expense, when you 
understand how serious the situation was. 

“ In the first place, there’s my business card, 
to prove I’m no adventurer. Every member of 
Miss Marlow’s family, brother and all — every- 
body but her father — approves of her marriage 
to me. Her father has a theory that women 
shouldn’t marry before the age of thirty, and 
because of that notion, nothing else, he shut her 
up and refused to hear a word from me. Fact is, 
he’s never even seen me. I’m entirely opposed 
to elopements, or anything that isn’t open and 
aboveboard, but Miss Marlow’s health was 
suffering from her imprisonment — that was 
what it amounted to — and when we found that 
her father’s own brothers and sisters couldn’t 


THE BEST MAN 


171 


make him listen to reason, I told them I was 
going to take her away. Thanks to you,” he 
added, with a laugh, “ I’ve got her so far! ” 

Tom laughed in his turn. 

Glad to have been of any assistance,” he 
said, “ and I forgive Miss Marlow, freely. But 
what’s gone wrong? Wheel off? ” 

“ Yes,” Somers answered, ruefully. “ Hard 
luck to have it happen here — not a house within 
two miles! ” 

“ Better come in with me,” Tom suggested. 
“I’m going to Roxbridge, if I don’t lose my way 
again. Probably we can meet some one you can 
send back to take care of your team. Better risk 
it than get caught, anyhow. I doubt if anybody 
but the old man will try very hard to stop you — 
but he might! 

“ By the way, Tom added, “ my name’s Bell — 
Tom Bell, of Millvale.” 

Somers offered his hand again and introduced 
Tom to Miss Marlow. 

“ It’ll be kind of you to give us a lift, Mr. 
Bell,” the young man said, gratefully. “ And,” 
he added, as he glanced backward over the long, 
level road, “ we may be needing it right now. 
See the carriage light back there? That may be 
my future father-in-law! Jump in, Gladys, and 
we’ll trust Mr. Bell to keep ahead of him! ” 

In another moment the auto was off and away. 

It was likely enough that, as Somers suggested, 


172 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


old Marlow was already in pursuit, and there 
was more than an even chance that that was his 
carriage. But of course it stood no chance 
against the auto. They lost it at the next turn, 
and it stayed lost, and without further threat 
or dread they got into Roxbridge and drew up 
at the home of the clergyman with whom Somers 
had made an appointment. 

“ I say, Bell, you’ll have to see me through 
with this! ” the young man cried, as he lifted his 
sweetheart from the car. “ There’ll be some of 
Gladys’s cousins inside — if they haven’t got 
tired of waiting and gone home — but you’ve 
had more to do with this event than anybody else, 
and I want you to stand up with me! ” 

“ Heavens and earth, man, I’ve been on the 
road half the afternoon, and I’m inch-deep in 
dirt! ” Tom protested. But Somers caught hold 
of him and pulled him out. 

“I’m not wearing any dress suit myself! ” he 
said. “ Take off your coat and goggles and gloves, 
and wash your face, if it’ll make you feel better, but 
don’t go back on me now; there’s a good fellow! ” 

And the end was that Tom allowed himself to 
be persuaded, and followed the elopers inside. 
The cousins, three girls of Miss Marlow’s age, were 
there, and when they had heard the whole story 
were anxious to make a hero of Tom; and, though 
he declined to allow that, he had the pleasantest 
kind of time, from the moment of his arrival 


THE BEST MAN 


173 


until the ceremony was over and they were 
ready to go. 

“ Where to? ” he asked, hackman fashion, 
when he had congratulated Mr. and Mrs. Somers, 
as he believed he could do with a clear conscience. 
“I’m the official chauffeur for this occasion, you 
know! ” 

“ If you will persist in being good to us, old 
man, you may take us to the New Grand,” Somers 
answered, with a laugh. “ Sure you haven’t busi- 
ness of your own that you want to attend to? ” 

“ Nothing now,” was Tom’s reply. 

Indeed, it seemed too late to get a glimpse of 
Marion, and there was no hope of it in his mind 
when, after he had left the newly married pair at 
the hotel, he drove slowly through the quiet 
street in which the Woodsides lived. But fortune 
favoured, after all his trials and delays, for as 
he neared the house another auto shot up to the 
curb, and Judge Woodside, descending, handed 
out his daughter. 

The judge liked Tom — and he wanted to 
smoke a cigar — so he settled himself at one end 
of the piazza and waved the young people over 
to the other end, and granted them and himself a 
long half-hour. In that time the story of Tom’s 
queer adventure was told; and, so long as Tom 
had been able to help Dick Somers and his bride, 
Marion professed that she sacrificed her own ride 
willingly. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


WILL AND HIS FATHER UPSET THINGS 

Speaking of sacrifices, it was on that same 
evening that May Roxton, surprised that her 
piazza seemed for once deserted by the boys and 
girls, said to Captain Jack, “ Where is everybody, 
I wonder? ” and Lorimer laughed as he replied. 

“ I know where my Van Dusen boy is,” he 
said. “ He’s in bed, sleeping hard, so he can get 
up between 5 and 6 o’clock in the morning.” 

“ How is he getting along? ” 

“ Nobly! He’s going to be a credit to us. The 
little fellow has every temptation to break 
training; he could stuff himself with all kinds of 
delicacies and live as softly as a prince; but, 
from all I can see and learn, he’s sticking to plain 
fare and steady habits and — ” 

“ And upsetting his whole family,” May put in, 
mischievously. 

“ Well, yes, I suppose his training does rather 
break in on the routine of a house like that,” 
Captain Jack admitted. “ But why should they 
find fault, when they can fairly see the boy grow! ” 
The 11 why ” was something that Lorimer was 
destined soon to learn. 


174 


WILL UPSETS THINGS 175 


A fortnight earlier, Mr. Van Dusen himself 
had been on the point of asking advice and help. 
The millionaire was growing stout, inconveniently 
so, and he had begun to think he would have to 
go into training. 

Since that time he had had a severe attack of 
indigestion. While it lasted, he could almost 
see his flesh melt off. When it ended, he was 
feeling so much better that he decided he could 
avoid the disagreeable necessity of exercising 
and eating plain food. 

But in those few days he was confined to the 
house he saw a good deal of Will’s goings-on, and, 
though some only puzzled him, others made him 
angry. That was why on the next evening, early, 
he was looking for Captain Jack. 

The ostensible reason for his call at the grounds 
was to give Lorimer a check in payment for one 
month’s care of Will. Perhaps he had forgotten 
some of Lorimer’s characteristics since the last 
time they met. At any rate, as the lad smilingly 
took the slip of paper and thanked him, Van 
Dusen growled: 

“ I am not altogether satisfied with Will’s 
progress — at least with the manner of it. I am 
inclined to think that the annoyances to which it 
subjects us might be attained at less expense.” 

Lorimer’s smile faded. He looked at the visitor 
steadily. 

* % Will you kindly explain yourself? ” he asked. 


176 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


And then Van Dusen’s grievances came out in 
a heap. 

“ I refer to the ridiculous costumes he insists 
upon wearing — the unearthly hours at which 
he rises and retires — the extraordinary likes 
and dislikes in the matter of food, which keep 
my chef perpetually complaining — and — and — 
eh? ” 

The end came lamely and suddenly, because 
Lorimer was holding out the check he had just 
received. 

“ Surely you must see I can’t accept this,” 
Captain Jack said, Steadily. “ If the advantages 
of my work with Will do not greatly outweigh the 
trifles you speak of, the work isn’t worth paying 
for, and I shall apologize and drop it here and 
now.” 

Mr. Van Dusen began to hedge. 

“But I don’t dispute its — its advantages,” 
he sputtered. “ Perhaps some modification in 
details — ” 

Lorimer smiled faintly and shook his head. 

“ As I understand it,” he said, “ Will is only 
following the system I marked out for him. He 
has gained five pounds in weight, has a good 
appetite and sleeps well, and is developing 
muscles, and I shall not advise him to make the 
slightest change in his manner of life. If you, 
as his father, choose to take that responsibility, 
you of course have the right.” 


WILL UPSETS THINGS 177 


“ But — but — ” Mr. Van Dusen began. 

“ I told him to alter the absurd semi-mannish 
style of dress that was choking and sweltering 
him. I told him when to get up and when to go 
to bed. I told him what he should eat and what 
he should not eat. I gave him precisely such 
instructions as I would give my own brother — 
though I doubt if my brother, or more than one 
boy in a thousand, would have stuck to them 
as Will has. He’s entitled to all the more credit, 
as I look at it, if he’s held his grip in spite of 
opposition at home. I’m the one to blame! ” 

The check still fluttered in the air between 
them. Mr. Van Dusen glanced at it and put his 
hands behind him. 

“ I think I must have expressed myself in- 
judiciously,” the millionaire said. “We value 
your work — there’s no doubt the boy is the 
better for it — and I can’t consent to your giving 
it up.” 

“You must consent — unless — ” 

“ Yes? Unless what? ” 

“ I told you at the beginning that if I took 
charge of Will’s training there must be no inter- 
ference with it,” Lorimer answered. “ It seems 
there has been criticism, if not open opposition, 
so now I’ll go a little farther. If the training is 
to continue, you must back up the boy. He has 
no strength for fighting ignorant or impertinent 
meddlers.” 


178 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Very well, very well,” Van Dusen agreed. 
Then, as at last Lorimer folded the check and put 
it in his pocket, the man gave a sigh of relief. 

“ Have you any objection to our taking him 
away on the yacht for a fortnight or so? ” Van 
Dusen asked, meekly. 

“ Certainly not. It will do him good. The 
main thing at present is that he shall stay out- 
doors, dress sensibly, get sleep enough and eat 
wholesome food. By the time snow comes he’ll 
be in shape for real hard work that will develop 
him fast. A year from now you won’t know him ! ” 

“ Think there’s good stuff in him, eh? ” the 
father said, proudly. 

“ Splendid! He’s got nerve and pluck and the 
steadiness of purpose that keeps a fellow going, 
and all our boys are doing their best to help him.” 

Just at that moment Mr. Van Dusen happened 
to recall the half-formed intention of a fortnight 
before. 

“ I had a mind, a while ago, finding I was 
becoming uncomfortably stout, to ask you the 
easiest way to check that tendency,” he con- 
fessed. Lorimer smiled. 

“ I’m afraid I don’t know any way that you 
would consider easy,” he answered. “ One of 
the first things you would have to do would be 
to put away that auto and the carriages and 
walk. 

“ You have to work for health and strength, 


WILL UPSETS THINGS 179 


just as you do for any other good thing,” Lorimer 
went on, half to himself. “ First place, you know, 
you have to choose whether you’ll have ’em, or 
whether you’ll have autos and wine and cigars 
and rich food. And after you’ve made your choice, 
— well, you can’t get a $10,000 touring car by 
sitting and wishing for it, and you can’t get 
strong that way, either. 

“ Excuse me, sir,” Lorimer ended suddenly, 
in some confusion. “ I wasn’t thinking of you, 
exactly, and I wouldn’t say anything impertinent, 
you know. I was just muttering my thoughts 
without hitting at anybody.” 

“ Never mind, my lad,” was the millionaire’s 
sober rejoinder. “ You spoke the truth. A man 
doesn’t come to my age without learning that, 
for everything he gets, something must be given up. 

“ To change to a pleasanter subject,” he added, 
“ do you need anything in your gymnasium? ” 

“ No, sir, thank you.” 

As Lorimer spoke the words, Van Dusen looked 
at him curiously. 

“ Contented, are you? ” he said. 

“ Why, yes, sir,” was Captain Jack’s smiling 
answer. “ The gym’s as good as we need, and 
better than we deserve, and I believe I haven’t 
much to wish for just at present, except,” he 
added laughingly, “ well, except that January 
Jones’s little brothers shall get out of the neigh- 
bourhood alive! ” 


180 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Of course Mr. Van Dusen did not think of taking 
that seriously. Actually, however, if there was 
any risk that the ingenuity of two small boys 
could devise, these two were sure to run it. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


AVENGERS ON OLD JARED’S TRAIL 

Though Tom Bell had thought that things were 
coming pretty swiftly during that auto trip of his, 
his experience was nothing to that through which 
Four Corners was passing — thanks to the Jones 
twins. 

Please note that they were not bad boys, by 
any means. There wasn’t an ounce of meanness 
under their skins, and they wouldn’t wilfully 
have injured anybody in person, property, or 
feelings. But they were so full of life that they 
simply couldn’t keep still, and they were bubbling 
over with originality, too, and bound to be doing 
“ something different ” every time, and naturally 
in the course of a day they covered a good deal 
of ground. 

Arriving at the Bussey farm on Saturday 
afternoon, they had the place whirling round and 
round, so to speak, by bedtime. Then on Sunday 
morning, when all the visitors went to church 
with the Busseys, they introduced themselves 
to the community in general. 

Albert Edward fell asleep and rolled off the 
181 


182 JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAY'S 


seat. Never doubting that Oscar Augustus 
pushed him off, he arose and slapped his grinning 
twin. A minute later, both were down on the 
floor, and there they slammed each other around 
until James Henry tore them apart by main 
strength and dragged them outdoors, a twin in 
each hand. After that, the neighbours kept an 
eye on the Bussey place. 

There were two odd things about the twins. 
Where January was rather talkative, they were 
inclined to be close-mouthed; and again, where 
January was anxious to be at peace with every- 
body who would let him, the twins fought each 
other all the time. Not that there was malice or 
temper in it; but, being of the same size, they 
wanted to find out who was the better fellow. 
It worried January, but he couldn’t put a stop 
to it. It was too old and settled a habit of theirs. 

Ever since they reached Millvale the twins had 
kept the fat boy busy, and here at Four Corners 
he was “ more so,” trying to invent ways to keep 
them out of mischief. Sunday afternoon, after 
Albert Edward had been rescued from the pig- 
pen, where he was attempting to ride the largest 
hog, and after Oscar Augustus had been butted 
over a fence by the old ram, January took his 
brothers off to the river. 

“ Hi’m a-going to show you ’ow to swim,” he 
said, “ on condition as you never go in without 
letting of me know, and don’t go in more nor 


ON OLD JARED’S TRAIL 183 


twice a day, or stay in more nor twenty minutes. 
Hunderstand? ” 

The twins looked at him and at each other, and 
nodded solemnly. January knew he could trust 
them — provided they didn’t forget. 

“ Come hon, then,” he said. “ Hi don’t like 
to break the Sabbath, ye know, but you two 
tykes will bloody well bust it, hany’ow, so ’ere 
goes for the river! ” 

What with getting there and back, dressing and 
undressing, and the swim itself, the river would 
take care of the twins for two hours a day. But 
there were so many hours left! Finally, however, 
Ma Jones noticed how hard January was working, 
and relieved him of some responsibility. 

“ Take it heasy, lad,” she said, in her soft and 
gentle way. “ Little brothers ’ave lived through 
it, so far. Hand it’s no use to try and watch 
them — for because you can’t, you know.” 

It was after he had received this bit of advice, 
which sank deep, that January had his biggest 
idea, and almost thought that everybody’s troubles 
were over. He took the twins out to Bussey’s 
Woods, where the Millvale boys had camped, 
and built them a tent of saplings and hemlock 
boughs. 

“ Honly don’t set fires! ” he said; and the 
twins promised that they wouldn’t. 

Monday had been a time of terror at the farm. 
Tuesday, with the twins at their camp, seemed 


184 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


like a foretaste of heaven. They were cheerful 
and contented, too. But by Wednesday things 
had grown a little tame, and they decided to 
enliven matters by playing Indian. 

“ We’ve got to paint hup and ’ave ’ead- 
dresses and carry weapons,” suggested Oscar 
Augustus. 

“ Leave it to me,” was the confident reply of 
Albert Edward. 

It was Oscar Augustus, however, who provided 
the head-dresses — of twigs and feathers inter- 
woven. Albert Edward got the paint, red and 
yellow and black, from the woodshed chamber, 
and he found the weapons also — an old musket 
that they could barely lift, Jeff’s revolver and 
box of cartridges, and two carving-knives. With 
these they retired to the camp and proceeded to 
decorate. 

According to the Indian tales they had read, 
lurid stories written for British youth by men who 
never saw an Indian, the red man in his native 
wilds doesn’t wear much of anything but paint. 
They stripped to the waist, and Albert Edward 
painted Oscar Augustus and Oscar Augustus 
painted Albert Edward, face and body, and 
then, surveying each other, they grinned admir- 
ingly and joyously. 

“ My name’s Heagle Wing,” said Albert 
Edward. 

“ My name’s Bear ’Unter,” said Oscar Augustus. 


ON OLD JARED S TRAIL 185 


“ Brother, let hus take the trail, what? ” said 
Eagle Wing, solemnly. 

Dragging the old musket, which they took 
turns at carrying, they stole stealthily to the 
top of the ledge, with many a muttered “ Hist! ” 
and much expressive pantomime, and, breathing 
hard, dropped on their stomachs at last and 
looked down upon the home of old Jared Peabody. 

“ ’E little knows the Avenger is on ’is track! ” 
hissed Eagle Wing. 

41 Two Avengers, you mean! ” said Bear Hunter, 
crossly. 

“ Talk Hindian, you! ” growled Eagle Wing. 
He set the example by spouting a rigmarole in 
a hoarse whisper. 

“ The paleface is doomed! ’E must die! ” was 
the conclusion of it. “ Before the next sunrise 
’is ’ome shall be hashes and ’is stalwart frame 
shall be — shall be dirt!” It said “dust,” in 
the speech that Eagle Wing was trying to quote, 
but he forgot, and had to use the next best word. 

“Hist! Let the braves had vance — swift as 
the wind and secret as — as hany think! ” said 
Bear Hunter, in his turn. Sneaking down the 
ledge, away at the left of Horace White’s road, 
the Indians were soon on level ground and 
moving toward the Peabody place. 

On the ledge side, the shrubbery ran up pretty 
near Peabody’s barn. It was rather a difficult 
road they had to traverse, indeed, and how they 


186 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


got that old musket through the bushes without 
blowing their heads off, will always be a mystery. 
They did it, anyway; and, one with the gun and 
the other with the revolver, finally sank down 
behind the outer fringe of trees and bushes. 

“ To the heast, Heagle Wing! Me to the 
west! ” whispered Bear Hunter. “ When Hi 
raise me war-bonnet, let the thunderbolts speak 
to the paleface! Then sound the war-whoop and 
charge! ” 

They crawled three or four yards apart and a 
little nearer the bam. Slowly and solemnly 
Bear Hunter lifted his head-dress. In the next 
moment he pulled the trigger of the old musket 
and his twin let go the six shots in the revolver. 

Then, with a yell supposed to be blood-curdling, 
Eagle Wing dashed out of the bushes. But Bear 
Hunter didn’t follow, and, when he noticed that, 
the other twin turned back. Bear Hunter was 
lying flat on his back, blinking at the sun and 
bleeding from the nose. 

“ What’s ’appened? ” Eagle Wing demanded. 

“ ’Ow should Hi know? ” the wounded brave 
gasped, angrily. “Hi fell down — me arm 
’urts! ” 

“ You look ’orrid! ” Eagle Wing observed. 

What with blood and paint, Bear Hunter was 
indeed a fearsome sight. The old musket had 
kicked hard. 

But as he feebly tried to turn, that he might 


ON OLD JARED S TRAIL 187 


bury his swollen nose in the cooling turf, there 
arose such a tremendous racket in and about 
Peabody’s barn that he stopped half-way and, 
leaning on his elbow, stared quest ioningly at his 
companion. 

At the moment of the Indian attack old Jared 
had been milking his worst cow. She was a 
nervous cow, as well as an evil-tempered one, 
and when a charge of birdshot pattered against 
the barn, closely followed by six bullets, she 
simply drew off and kicked the old man as far 
as there was room to send him. And the milk-pail 
clattered after, the milk drenching the milker, 
and the pail coming down over his head as 
neatly as if he had planned to put it there. 

Staggering to his feet, he groped for a rope 
that hung by the door and threw his weight 
upon it. There was a good-sized bell on the 
bam, for Mr. Peabody was mortally afraid of 
fire; and the bell, which pealed furiously at 
every twitch of the rope, was advertising to all 
the countryside that he wanted help. 

“Help! Help!” He was beseeching it by 
word of mouth also. That didn’t make much 
noise — the pail was still over his head, and he 
hadn’t yet found out what ailed him — but he 
did his best. 

By the time he got the pail off, the neighbours 
began to gather. And about that time Eagle 
Wing and Bear Hunter started to make back 


188 JACK LORIMER S HOLIDAYS 


tracks through the bushes. It looked as if their 
game might be turning serious. 

Nobody noticed them. They got back to their 
camp undetected. Then, as if with one consent, 
they hurried up to the top of the ledge and looked 
over toward the Peabody place. 

The dooryard was full, and people were still 
coming — most of them carrying water-pails. 
The hand-tub was there, and so were most of the 
members of the volunteer fire department, dis- 
tinguishable by their red hats. Old Jared was 
hopping about like a pea on a hot griddle. It 
was doubtful if he realized the situation yet, but 
he was making a fuss, just the same. 

“ Let’s go ’ave a swim,” said Eagle Wing, with 
a sigh. 

But the paint didn’t come off in the river, 
though they scrubbed all they knew how. It 
gave them away, when they wofully sneaked 
home, and it kept on giving them away, for, in 
spite of turpentine, it took the rest of the week 
to wear off. 

And their speckled faces and blistered bodies 
weren’t the worst of it, for even gentle Ma Jones 
rose in her wrath at the thought of annoying a 
neighbour and startling the town. She made 
them go and apologize to Mr. Peabody, and then 
she asked James Henry to whip them — and 
watched to see that he put it on hard! 

Jeff Bussey couldn’t let the Indian game end 


ON OLD JARED S TRAIL 189 


there. He named one of the twins “ Yellow- 
hammer ” and the other “ Spotty-Nose,” real 
Indian names, he said, and had a good deal of 
fun at their expense. 

Yet the little fellows were fond of him, in spite 
of that, and he thought they were fine boys, and 
when he and the Joneses returned to Mill vale, 
Thursday noon, Jeff was sorrow-stricken at the 
thought that they would be starting for the West 
the next day. That upset everybody, more or 
less, — though James Henry, as usual, found 
something brave and comforting to say. 

“ Cheer up! Cheer up! ” he cried, as the last 
handshakes were being exchanged. “ Next sum- 
mer we’ll ’ave January out to British Columbia 
to spend ’is vacation, and the next year ma and 
I and these three will be on ’ere, and postage 
stamps are cheap, you know, so we ain’t a-going 
to lose track of each other or hany of our friends ! ” 

And afterwards the boys did their best to help 
January through the remainder of the day — 
Captain Jack with a lesson in rowing, and Will 
Van Dusen with an auto ride, and Lou Mains 
with a boxing lesson. So Friday wore away, 
Saturday came, and with it came a couple that 
Tom Bell was amused and pleased to meet 
again — Mr. and Mrs. Dick Somers, the hero and 
heroine of the auto elopement. 

“ Hello, Bell! ” Somers cried. “ Told you I’d 
hunt you up! Wanted you to know that it’s all 


190 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


right! I called on my respected father-in-law 
the day after the wedding — and you see I’m 
alive yet! He was willing then to weigh my 
credentials, seeing that he couldn’t help himself „ 
and he seemed to be satisfied. Fact is, he wants 
us to come and live with him.” 

“ And shall you go? ” Tom asked. 

Dick laughed and glanced at his pretty young 
wife, who smiled in her turn. 

“Well, not just at present,” he said. “Not 
until Gladys has had a rest, anyway. See here, 
we’re fitting up a little place in Roxbridge, 17 
Blank Street, and though we’re frisking round 
just now, we’ll be at home after the first of the 
month — and you’ll have to come and see us, 
understand? ” 

“ Of course I’ll come,” Tom answered. “ Any- 
thing I can do now to make things pleasant here 
for you in Mill vale? ” 

“ Nothing, thank you. Everything is all right 
everywhere. Fact is, if I felt any better I couldn’t 
stand it! Get married! Say, Bell, why don't 
you go to Roxbridge and get married? ” 

Tom gasped, choked as he tried to answer, 
turned very red, and, waving his hand desperately, 
ran for the dressing-room. That jesting remark 
of Somers’s had come “ near home.” Marion 
Woodside lived at Roxbridge. 


CHAPTER XXV 


JANUARY AND OTHERS IN SCHOOL 

In one view of the case, the holidays did not 
come to an end when school began. Through 
September and October, while the classes were 
getting into their stride, so to speak, there would 
be no very hard work for anybody. Meanwhile 
there were times when Lorimer, for one, found it 
a little difficult to realize where he was. It was 
pleasant to be a senior. But how many familiar 
faces he missed ! 

May had finished her course. So had Rose 
Aheam, Clare and Tom Bell, Terry McGrady, 
Ned Harriott, Matt Janvrin, Will Chapin, and a 
dozen other faithful friends. Jeff Bussey, now a 
junior, was about the only real chum who re- 
mained. Lorimer was older, or at any rate more 
mature, than most of his classmates, and though, 
as a junior, he had been president of his class, 
most of his closest friends had been seniors. Jim 
Elverton and Davis and Reed and Amos and a 
few other good fellows and promising athletes 
were in his class and were still with him ; and yet, 
as he glanced over the yard, at intermission, he 
felt pretty lonesome. 


191 


192 JACK LORIMERS HOLIDAYS 


Imagine, then, the emotions of January Jones, 
beginner! 

It must be confessed that January wanted to 
dodge, to put off the evil day, which meant the 
day when he should enter the River Street gram- 
mar school, as long as he could. Originally, 
Terry McGrady had planned to start Thursday 
on a little yacht cruise which the fat boy had been 
invited to join, and that would have brought the 
party home about Wednesday, just in time for 
the opening of the schools. But Terry had post- 
poned the start until Monday, in order to take 
part in a baseball series with Doverdale, and, at 
this change, January chuckled gleefully. He 
would gain three days! He wouldn’t have to 
begin school until the following Monday! 

But there are worse things than school, and if 
January had paused to recall how sick he was 
when he crossed the Atlantic, he wouldn’t have 
felt so gay at the prospect of a week on salt water. 

They set out joyously. Terry’s cousin and 
host, Peter Ward, was just such another genial, 
whole-souled chap as McGrady himself, and 
January liked him at sight. When the little 
catboat, Wave , left South Boston on her way up 
the coast, that bright Monday morning, one 
couldn’t have found in all New England a happier 
lad than the fat boy. 

He was still cheerful when they were abreast 
of Spectacle Island, and off Lovell’s he managed 


JANUARY IN SCHOOL 193 


to crack a joke. But when they rounded Deer 
Island and met the swell which indicated that 
they were fairly headed up Massachusetts Bay, he 
sobered somewhat, and when they were half-way 
to the East Point of Nahant he began to gulp 
once in awhile and look a little green. 

“ Homesick, January? ” asked Terry. 

“ No, sir, thank ye, sir,” the fat boy answered. 
“ Hi was a-wondering, ye know, why Hi ate them 
bloomink ’erring for me breakfast.” 

“ What you want for dinner is some salt pork 
and molasses,” Ward suggested, with a wink at 
Terry. “ Nothing better for a hearty meal at 
sea. You pour the molasses over the pork, you 
know.” 

January swallowed hard, and walked forward. 
About this time, he was thinking that he would 
never again want anything to eat, and wishing 
that he had never done so foolish a thing as to 
put food into his mouth. 

Quite a stiff breeze had blown up, when they 
got out into the bay, and the catboat was pretty 
well heeled over and pitching considerable. 
January wasn’t frightened — in fact, there were 
moments when he didn’t care if she did upset — 
but before they rounded East Point he had to 
admit that he was sick. 

Ward gave him a lemon to suck, and January 
clutched it eagerly and thought at first that it 
made him feel better. But all of a sudden he 


194 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


threw the lemon overboard and collapsed in an 
unhappy heap, clinging for dear life to the star- 
board rail. 

There was pluck in the fat boy’s makeup, and 
he didn’t whine, although, if one had strength 
to do so, he would be justified in crying about 
seasickness, than which there are few afflictions 
more distressing. But when they were off Marble- 
head he was suffering so severely that the naviga- 
tors decided to run in and anchor for the night 
in smooth water. 

“ Sure you’ll be all right by bedtime, January, 
and to-morrow and afterwards you’ll have the 
time of your life,” said Terry, consolingly. “ ’Tis 
terrible while it lasts, is seasickness, but it doesn’t 
last for ever, and it does a fellow good.” 

“ Hi think Hi’d rather take me medicine some 
hother way, ye know,” was the fat boy’s feeble 
reply. But he soon began to feel better, now they 
were free of the motion that had set his stomach 
rolling, and an hour on dry land persuaded him 
that, as Terry said, he would be all right next day. 

Next day, however, he was all wrong — if 
anything, worse. 

There was a raw, cold wind and a following 
sea, and the catboat bored into the water as 
though she had a grudge against it. January 
had to give in, before they had left the anchorage 
three miles behind, and his groans were saddening 
to hear. 


JANUARY IN SCHOOL 195 


“ Better stick it out on deck,” Ward advised. 
“ You’ll be worse if you go into the cuddy.” 

“ ’Ow can Hi be worse, what? ” moaned the 
fat boy. “ Me ’eart and me lungs are all in a 
’eap, blow me! ” 

“ Guess it’ll have to be Gloucester for us, to- 
night,” said Ward to Terry. “ Pretty hard on 
the boy, to keep him out longer.” Terry nodded 
assent. 

“ Hi’m a-going ’ome to-morrow, if Hi ’ave to 
swim! ” said January, with determination, when 
he was able to speak once more. “ Hi’d rather 
try me luck in school, ye know, than fight the 
Hatlantic Hocean! ” 

“ Nonsense, boy! ” was Terry’s rejoinder. 
“ Sure you’re liable to get over this at any minute, 
and then you’ll have fun.” 

But January would not argue, and he stuck 
to his intention. Though Wednesday was a 
beautiful day, and there didn’t seem to be a 
capful of wind, he insisted on going ashore and 
taking the train. 

“ Hi’ve thrown up the sponge — and hevery- 
think helse,” he said with a mournful smile. 
“ Hi can’t stand seafaring, ye know. It’s too 
’ard on me nerves.” 

“ Good way to train down,” Terry suggested. 

“ Hi’d rather hask the schoolmaster to take 
me flesh hoff,” January answered. Indeed he 
very nearly did it. So great was his relief at 


196 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


reaching Mill vale, the torments of the sea escaped, 
that he presented himself at the River Street 
grammar school that very afternoon, all ready to 
be assigned to a class. 

He had passed an examination, the week before, 
and come through it well, — thanks to Lou Mains’s 
coaching. The sixth grade was the one to which 
he proved to belong, and the principal took him 
into one of the class-rooms and handed him over 
to the teacher, Miss Trefethen. 

Miss Trefethen was not a very sweet-tempered 
person at the best of times, but to-day, with much 
on her mind, she was unusually snappish. She 
drew her register toward her and asked the new 
boy’s name. 

“ January Jones, hif you please, miss,” was the 
reply. 

“ Ridiculous! ” snarled the teacher. Of course 
she had no business to say that, since the boy 
was not responsible for his name, and January 
didn’t like it a bit. 

“ Then it’s January Jones hif you don’t please, 
miss,” he said, speaking as curtly as she. 

“No impertinence, sir!” cried Miss Trefethen. 
“ Where were you born, and how old are 
you? ” 

“ London, and Hi’m heleven.” 

“ Take that seat.” 

January walked over and sat down. Then he 
got up again. The teacher looked at him. 


JANUARY IN SCHOOL 197 


41 Well? ” she demanded. 

“ Hif you please, miss, this seat ain’t ’olesome, 
ye know,” said January, mildly. 

44 What in the world — ” 

44 Me feet don’t touch the floor, and it cramps 
me to reach hup to the desk part,” the fat boy 
explained. 44 The seat was made for a tall boy, 
ye know, and it’s not a good fit.” 

44 Be seated, and hold your tongue! ” the 
teacher ordered. 

44 Hif you please, miss, Hi’d rather not.” The 
tone was gentle and respectful, but firm. 

Miss Trefethen took another look at January. 
She had heard of the fat boy, she knew he had 
influential friends, she did not want to begin the 
term with a squabble, and she read in her new 
pupil’s expression that, if he thought himself 
imposed upon, he was very likely to raise one. 
She realized, moreover, that, if there were desks 
which did 44 fit,” she had no right to place a scholar 
where he would be uncomfortable ; and, after the 
wise second thought, she walked forward. 

44 Sit down, and let me see,” she said, more 
pleasantly. January seated himself. 

44 Hi’m a hathlete, ye know, and Hi can’t go 
against me training, what? ” he suggested. 

The teacher smiled, in spite of herself. 44 Per- 
haps I was hasty,” she admitted. 44 Take any 
unoccupied desk that does seem to fit.” 

44 Thank you, miss,” the fat boy answered. 


198 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


With much deliberation he surveyed the room, 
tried several seats, and finally made his choice. 

“ Satisfied? ” the teacher asked. 

" Yes, miss, thank you, miss.” 

January was the kind of boy who is bound to 
be “ satisfied ” — that is, to have all that by 
right belongs to him. It was a good thing for 
the teacher, perhaps, that she had found it out 
early. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


BAMBINO CALLS AT MILLVALE HIGH 

To return to Captain’s Jack’s school, of course 
there were many pupils who having, like him, 
moved up a class, found the change altogether 
agreeable. For example, Tom Lorimer and 
Roger Ahearn, who were now middlers, seemed 
to have nothing to fret about and to be very proud 
of themselves. Perhaps it was by way of cele- 
bration that they stirred up things on the second 
day of school And yet, to be fair to them, it 
mainly “ happened so.” 

The happenings began while the boys were 
on the way to school. Carrying an old-fashioned 
hand-organ with a monkey perched atop, an 
Italian passed them. As Tom and Roger glanced 
at the monkey, the same idea seemed to strike 
each boy, and they burst into a roar of laughter. 

“ The living image of Swipes Duncan, our 
beloved classmate, ain’t he? ” Tom said. “I’d 
give a dollar if Swipes could see him! ” 

The Italian caught that mention of money, 
and came to a halt at once. 

“You lika buy my monk’?” he asked eagerly. 

199 


200 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ He ver’ good monk’ and I sella him sheep — 
only t’ree dollar! ” 

Tom’s eyes began to twinkle. “ There ought 
to be some fun in that piece of livestock,” he 
said. “ Got any money? I’ll put up two dollars, 
if you’ll chip in one.” 

“ How you going to get him anywhere, if you 
buy him?” Roger objected. “Buy the hand- 
organ, too, to carry him on? ” 

Before Tom could answer, the Italian produced 
a small canvas bag. 

‘‘You putta him in dis,” he said. “ Lika 
dis — see? ” 

He opened the mouth of the bag and made a 
sign. The monkey hopped off his shoulder and 
wriggled into the bag, and the Italian drew it 
together, not too tightly, and smiled trium- 
phantly. 

“ Whatta more? ” he asked. The boys under- 
stood that to mean that he wanted to know if 
they had any other objection to raise. They 
couldn’t think of any, just then, and so they 
handed over the three dollars and the Italian 
stumped away. But by the time he turned the 
comer the boys had realized that it was very 
nearly 9 o’clock. 

“ What’ll we do with him till 2 o’clock? ” Roger 
grumbled. 

“ Oh, I’ll put the bag in my desk,” Tom 
answered, assuming more confidence than he 


BAMBINO CALLS 


201 


really felt. “ With the mouth open as it is, 
and the desk-top up, he’ll be all right. 

“ Say,” he added, “ we’ll call him Bambino. 
That’s Italian for baby, I believe. He isn’t a 
very big one, anyway. Come on, old sport! ” — 
and he slung the bag over his shoulder — “ we’ll 
put you to bed for a few hours.” 

But Bambino had been none too well fed by his 
former master, and though he made not even a 
chatter of protest when Tom, slipping into the 
class-room, deposited him gently in his desk, it 
was a little too much to expect that a hungry 
monkey would “ stay put ” for half a day. 

He might have kept still, feeling that there 
was a master within arm’s reach, if Tom had 
remained at his desk. Unfortunately, Tom and 
his roommates had to go to the chemical labora- 
tory during the third period, and in the silence 
and solitude Bambino listened to the rumblings 
of his empty stomach and got restless. 

Taking the drawing-string of the bag between 
his front paws, Bambino applied his sharp white 
teeth and soon bit it through. It was the work of 
a moment to free himself from the desk, spring 
to the window-sill and take stock of his sur- 
roundings. 

Like all monkeys, Bambino was intensely 
curious. He very soon discovered that the room 
was empty; but as he glanced out of the window 
he saw that he was at one end of a great building — 


202 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


with many other open windows — and, leaping 
to the yard, he proceeded to explore. 

Sniff, sniff, sniff! 

A faint, complex, but appetizing odour assailed 
his nostrils. It came through the open window 
of the basement lunch-room, and Bambino 
climbed in. 

There was much to choose from, had there been 
time to choose, for many pupils, who lived at a 
distance, brought their luncheons. But it was 
a strange combination the monkey found in the 
first two baskets he opened — a home-made 
charlotte russe and a monstrous blood-pudding 
brought by a little Polish girl who was stronger 
in Latin than she was in hygiene. 

Bambino seized both. But before he had a 
chance to investigate, the woman in charge of 
the lunch-room bustled in. At sight of the 
monkey she let out an ear-splitting scream. 

The monkey had had quite as severe a scare. 
Hugging his treasures to his breast, he sprang 
through the window, ran back across the yard, 
still keeping close to the building, and squatted 
down just under the open windows of a junior 
class-room where Mr. Eckstrom, the principal’s 
first assistant, was holding forth on the mysteries 
of German grammar. 

Chattering to himself, Bambino started on the 
pudding. It was large and soft and sticky, and, 
though quite unlike anything he had ever seen 


BAMBINO CALLS 


203 


before, to a hungry monkey it looked luscious. 
He was just about to sample it when Mr. Blais- 
d ell’s terrier sauntered in through the gate from 
the street. 

With a joyous bark the terrier dashed across 
the yard. Dropping the charlotte russe, but 
clinging to his precious pudding, Bambino 
promptly took refuge on the window-sill. The 
dog leaped into the air, and his snapping teeth 
missed Bambino’s tail by the merest fraction of 
an inch. 

That was nearer than Bambino liked. With a 
terrified squeal he sprang through the window, 
still clutching his pudding, and alighted on Mr. 
Eckstrom’s desk. 

If a bombshell had exploded in the class-room, 
Mr. Eckstrom could hardly have been more 
startled. He jumped aside with an involuntary 
cry of alarm, while at the same instant the boys 
burst into a yell of uncontrollable laughter. 

Frightened by the uproar, Bambino leaped 
from the desk to the top of a blackboard, and 
from there to one of the beams which supported 
the ceiling. Here he squatted, with the pudding 
between his paws, chattering defiance at the 
boys and master. 

“ Who is responsible for this outrage? ” de- 
manded Mr. Eckstrom, reddening with wrath. 
“ Does any one know to whom this monkey 
belongs? ” 


204 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Nobody knew. 

“ Shall we drive it away, sir? ” Jeff Bussey 
asked. 

Not waiting for consent, the boys sprang to 
their feet, waving their arms and yelling at the 
top of their voices. 

“ Silence! Silence! ” cried the master. “ Re- 
sume your places! I will deal with the intruder.” 

He strode forward, underneath Bambino, and 
gestured wildly. “ Shoo! Come down, sir! 
Go away! ” he shouted. 

Bambino swore a little, monkey fashion, but 
did not move. 

“ Throw something at him, sir,” Bussey sug- 
gested. 

This seemed a good idea. Mr. Eckstrom had 
a book in his hand. He took careful aim and 
shied it at Bambino. 

“ Two can play at that game,” was what the 
monkey’s chatter said, had anybody understood 
it. But they only noticed that the book whizzed 
past Bambino’s head and fell back at the master’s 
feet. 

Mr. Eckstrom picked up the book. But even 
as he raised his hand for a second attempt, Bam- 
bino dropped the pudding. With a dull, moist 
thud the sticky mass alighted on Mr. Eckstrom’s 
face and buried his head to the shoulders. 

Dancing with rage, the master wildly plucked 
at the mess that concealed his features. Bam- 


BAMBINO CALLS 


205 


bino ran to and fro along the beam and in an 
almost human way chattered his delight. The 
girls looked rather scared and shocked; but the 
boys, helpless with merriment, laid their heads 
on each other’s shoulders and fairly shrieked. 

Scared by the racket, as well she might have 
been, Miss Burbank rushed in from the next 
room. 

“ What in the world has happened? ” she 
gasped, gazing at Mr. Eckstrom in stupefied 
bewilderment. 

Before Mr. Eckstrom or any one else could 
reply, Bambino took a flying leap and alighted 
on Miss Burbank’s shoulder. Perhaps it was Miss 
Burbank’s spectacles which excited his curiosity. 
Perhaps it was her glossy, jet-black hair, which 
every girl in school believed to be a wig. 

“ Ouch! Oh, dear! Oh, my! Take it away — 
take it away! ” screamed Miss Burbank in panic- 
stricken terror. 

Convulsed with laughter, the boys scrambled 
forward to Miss Burbank’s assistance. At the 
same instant Bambino twined his paws in Miss 
Burbank’s hair, and gave a vigorous tug. 

The girls had not been mistaken. It was a 
wig, and, in response to Bambino’s tug, it came 
off. And even as the boys fell back, startled by 
the transformation its absence wrought, even as 
Miss Burbank uttered an inarticulate wail of 
dismay, Bambino sprang to the desk, still grasping 


206 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


the wig, and vanished through the window — 
“ out of the frying-pan into the fire.” 

Though the monkey did not know it, Mr. Blais- 
dell’s terrier was still dancing and barking out- 
side. When Bambino leaped out, with Miss 
Burbank’s wig, he dived head-foremost into the 
dog’s jaws. Snap! The terrier’s teeth met in 
something soft and hairy. But it was not Bam- 
bino’s hide. It was Miss Burbank’s wig. 

Bambino, unharmed, bounded along the yard 
and disappeared through the main doorway. 
Firmly believing that he had caught a piece of 
the monkey, if not the whole of him, the terrier 
shook the wig savagely, then pinned it down with 
his fore paws and began to worry it, growling with 
savage delight. 

A moment later, a row of grinning faces 
appeared at the class-room windows. 

“ The monkey’s gone, sir, and the principal’s 
dog has caught Miss Burbank’s wig,” reported 
Bussey, grinning more broadly at the sight of the 
teacher, who was standing in the middle of the 
room trying, confusedly, to cover her naked skull 
with a handkerchief. 

Nobody sympathized with Miss Burbank. She 
was the teacher who had pretty nearly provoked 
a strike, as told in “ Captain Jack Lorimer,” by 
suspending Tom Lorimer and several other boys 
in punishment for a piece of mischief of wdiich 
only one was guilty. It would be a long time 


BAMBINO CALLS 


207 


before her pettish injustice was forgotten; and 
now, though everybody liked Mr. Eckstrom, and 
laughed at him only because the incident was so 
ludicrous that they couldn’t help it, they didn’t 
care much what happened to Miss Burbank — 
or her wig. 

“Shall I try and get the — er — Miss Bur- 
bank’s property? ’’ somebody asked. 

“ No, I will,” said Jeff Bussey; and before Mr. 
Eckstrom could reply he vaulted through the 
open window. 

“Toby! Good dog! Smart dog!” he mur- 
mured, advancing toward the terrier. 

Toby eyed Jeff suspiciously for an instant. But 
when Jeff put out a hand and patted his head, 
Toby wagged his tail and felt very proud of 
himself. No doubt the boy was complimenting 
his bravery. It pleased Toby very much. 

He did not feel so pleased when, a moment 
later, Jeff snatched the wig and climbed back 
through the window. That was treacherous, 
Toby thought, and he barked his disapproval. 
Then, sniffing the ground for a second or two, he 
trotted away on the trail of Bambino. 

“ Your wig, Miss Burbank,” said Bussey, 
presenting it with a low bow. “I’m afraid it’s — 
er — slightly damaged.” 

It seemed so, indeed. Half the hair had been 
torn out by the roots and there were two great 
rips in the canvas “ scalp.” When the teacher 


208 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


clapped it on her head there was a wisp of hair 
on each side of her face and a long “ rat’s tail ” 
hung down her back. 

Amid shrieks of laughter from the boys and the 
contemptuous giggles of the girls, Miss Burbank 
bolted from the room; and just then Mr. Eck- 
strom got tired of clawing pudding out of his 
eyes and scraping it from his neck, and concluded 
the easiest way to get clean would be to take a 
bath. 

“ Class dismissed! ” he said. 

Meantime, as has been told, Bambino had 
gone into the main entrance. Up to the second 
floor he went, and stole along until he came to a 
door which was slightly ajar. There, hearing a 
murmur of voices, he stopped to investigate. 

The door was that of Professor Blaisdell’s 
office. The voices were those of the principal and 
Mr. Webb, a prominent lawyer and a member of 
the school committee — once an enemy of Lori- 
mer’s, because his son, Rel, was Jack’s rival, but 
now as friendly as any one could wish. 

It was a question of school policy that they were 
discussing. The principal had stated the case, 
and Mr. Webb had given his opinion at some 
length. But, before Mr. Blaisdell could reply, an 
excited bark sounded from the corridor, followed 
by a scream that was almost human in its terror. 

The terrier had tracked Bambino. The next 
instant the door flew open. In dashed the monkey, 


BAMBINO CALLS 


209 


the dog at his heels ; and then for a few seconds 
it was as if a tornado had broken loose in the 
room. 

Bambino leaped on the principal’s desk, and 
from it to the top of a bookcase. As he sprang 
from the desk his hind paws sent the ink-stand 
flying into Mr. Blaisdell’s lap, and as he alighted 
on the top of the bookcase he knocked down a 
plaster bust of Shakespeare, which fell on Mr. 
Webb’s head and smashed into a thousand 
pieces. 

The lawyer howled and danced round the 
room, holding his head between his hands. Mr. 
Blaisdell sprang to his feet with an angry cry; 
but just there his own dog got mixed up with 
his legs, and the ruler of Mill vale High sat down 
in the waste-basket with a crash that made the 
windows rattle. 

Terrified by that, Bambino took a flying leap 
and landed on the top of the door. Thence he 
sprang down into the corridor, raced to the other 
end, found an open window, and in a moment 
was “ shinning ” a water-pipe up to the roof. 

Here he believed he was safe from his pursuer, 
and he paused a moment to consider the situation. 
Presently an open skylight attracted his attention. 
He crawled to the edge and peered cautiously 
down. 

The skylight was in the roof of a room used 
as a sort of headquarters by an old woman engaged 


210 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


by Mr. O’Brien to help with the cleaning. An 
apple and a banana stood in plain view on the 
top of a packing box. 

Here was food such as the soul of Bambino 
craved. He dropped through the open skylight 
and made short work of the fruit. But it only 
whetted his appetite. He was bound to know if 
there was any more fruit in the neighbourhood. 

The door was not fastened. He pulled it open 
and hopped out on a narrow landing. But there, 
face to face, he met the old woman herself. 

It must be remembered that the monkey still 
wore the scarlet coat and cap with which the 
organ-grinder had fitted him, and the scrub- 
woman, meeting such a hairy apparition in such 
a place, straightway jumped to the conclusion 
that this was one of the imps of his satanic 
majesty. She screamed, dropped the pail of 
water she was carrying, and fell on her knees. 

It was an innocent victim, Janitor O’Brien, 
who caught the contents of the water-pail. Down 
the well of the stairway it dropped, clear to the 
first floor. And as the soapy torrent landed on 
O’Brien’s head, half choking and wholly blinding 
him, the monkey sprang down the stairs and out 
of the front door. 

Eckstrom’s pupils, dismissed for an hour 
because of the accident to the master, were 
amusing themselves in the yard. Jeff Bussey 
was the first to see Bambino as he sprinted down 


BAMBINO CALLS 


211 


the steps and toward the gate, but in the twinkling 
of an eye a dozen or fifteen other fellows were in 
hot pursuit. 

The nimble-footed monkey reached the gate 
yards ahead of his pursuers, and took refuge in 
the branches of a tree on the opposite side of the 
road. While the boys were planning how to 
dislodge him, a cart rattled down the street 
containing two men — the driver and an olive- 
hued person whom Jeff recognized as an organ- 
grinder he had encountered on another street a 
day or two before. 

Jeff, of course, was not aware that Tom and 
Roger had bought Bambino. In fact, nobody 
knew it but the two boys themselves — and 
they were not on the ground. So Jeff took it for 
granted that the monkey had escaped from its 
master, and, holding up his hand, he stopped the 
cart. 

“ Here he is, signor! ’’Jeff cried. “ If you’re 
offering any reward for his recapture, now’s 
your time to fork it out. He’s up that tree.” 

“ Wotta you mean? ” the Italian asked. 

“ Your monkey,” said Jeff. “ He’s escaped, 
hasn’t he? Well, there he is — in that tree.” 

The sharp-witted Italian took in the situation 
at a glance. These boys did not know that he 
had sold the monkey. Here was a chance to get 
his monkey back and keep the money too. 

He sprang out of the cart, the driver of which 


212 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


had generously offered him a “ lift,” and ran to 
the foot of the tree. He called out something 
in Italian, and Bambino meekly dropped to the 
ground and allowed himself to be secured. 

“ I tank you verra mooch! ” said the Italian, 
turning to Bussey and making him a sweeping 
bow. “You verra good honest boy! ” 

He climbed back into the cart, waved his hand 
most graciously, and, a moment later, he and the 
monkey were out of sight ; and that was the last 
that was seen of Bambino at Millvale High. 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THREE TIMES ROUND CITY HALL SQUARE 

Bambino had raised such a riot that Tom and 
Roger didn’t feel a bit like advertising the loss of 
their property. The events in which the monkey 
had figured provided them with many quiet 
laughs; but it was not until weeks later, when 
the sufferers had calmed down, that the facts in 
the case became known. 

Meanwhile they two were cherishing a grievance ; 
and Captain Jack was the cause of it. 

Rob Marr of Roxbridge had proposed a bicycle 
race between Roxbridge and Millvale, a race on 
a queer, original plan. He suggested that the 
cities be represented by teams of four men each; 
all eight to ride three times around City Hall 
Square, in Millvale; the last two on each side 
then to drop out; the first two to ride to Rox- 
bridge and return to Millvale, “ go-as-you-please.” 

Lorimer laughed when he heard of it. But, as 
he came to think it over, he realized that Marr’s 
plan provided tests of speed, endurance, road- 
finding ability, and the pluck to keep on in the 
face of unforeseen obstacles; and such a race 
puts “ stuff ” into a man as well as takes it out. 

213 


214 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


It would be fine advertising for the Millvale 
Athletic Club and the High School Athletic 
Association, moreover, calling attention to both 
and bidding for a continuance of the generous 
support that their friends had given. Indeed, 
the minute the scheme was publicly mentioned, 
people grew wildly excited. Those of a certain 
type began to make bets; others deluged the 
local papers with suggestions of short routes 
between the cities, and still others planned the 
make-up of the Millvale team as confidently as if 
they knew all about every boy who ever bestrode 
a bike. 

For Jack Lorimer, who had the team to choose, 
it was no such simple matter. 

He knew whom Roxbridge would put forward. 
They were Marr, Wales, Kerrison, and a new 
fellow who seemed to be coming forward to take 
the leadership which Marr would soon have to 
vacate, one George Blake. 

But as for Millvale, though Jack knew that 
Ned Harriott was the star wheelman and Jim 
Elverton a close second, he was much in doubt 
about the other riders. He questioned whether 
he himself ought to ride, and, if he did, he did 
not know whom to name for fourth man. Then 
Tom Lorimer spoke. 

“ Why can’t you give us younger fellows a 
chance? ” he said. “ Roger and I are pretty 
good on a wheel. Take him! ” 


ROUND CITY HALL SQUARE 215 


“ No, take Tom! ” Roger said, quickly. 

“I’d like to let you into this, boys,” was 
Captain Jack’s reply. “ I doubt, though, if you 
have the staying power or the self-command. I 
mean by that that you may be hampered in all 
kinds of unlooked-for ways, and whether you 
could hold your grip and keep going — ” 

“ Well, try us! ” Tom cried. 

“If I bar myself, as I feel like doing, on the 
ground that I haven’t the speed, the rest of you 
ought to be willing to stay outside with me,” 
was Lorimer’s smiling rejoinder. 

“ Oh, shucks! You know the crowd won’t 
let you bar yourself ! ” Roger rejoined, impatiently. 

He proved a true prophet. Captain Jack’s 
suggestion was met with a roar of protest, and 
no voices were louder than those of Harriott and 
Elverton, his two “ sure ” men. 

“ If you don’t ride, Jack, I don’t! ” said Ned. 
Jim put it quite as forcibly. 

“ I wouldn’t have believed it of you, Jack, — 
talking of throwing down your own side! ” he 
growled. 

“ But I haven’t the pace! ” Lorimer argued. 

‘‘You talk as though Jim and I were a pair of 
chumps. Haven’t we seen you ride? ” Ned Har- 
riott retorted. 

Finally Jack put it to Tom Bell, who he knew 
would tell him the truth, whether it was flattering 
or not. Tom did not answer in haste. In fact, he 


216 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


walked up and down the diamond, thoughtfully, 
for several minutes, before he stopped in front of 
Lorimer and nodded an affirmative. 

“ Make the run, Jack,” he said. “ I can’t see 
a better man. It isn’t speed that wins a race like 
that, so much as it is bottom and resourcefulness 
and knowledge of the country you’re traversing. 
You’re not exactly slow, either,” he added, 
smilingly. 

“ Well, then, if you’re bound to drag me into 
it, tell me the fourth man.” 

“ Paul Davis,” Bell answered. “Will Amos for 
a second choice — but Paul Davis by preference.” 

That was about the way Lorimer’s judgment 
had pointed ; and on Saturday morning, when all 
the riders assembled in City Hall Square, he felt 
pretty sure that this was a wise choice. Cer- 
tainly Davis had a nice style, sat his machine 
well, and showed an ankle action suggestive of 
great power. 

But nothing about him or the other wheelmen 
was so worthy of notice as was the square itself. 
The city fathers had recognized the race by 
roping off a course for the riders and providing 
officers to patrol it; and all around the course, 
and in almost every window of the shops and 
office buildings that faced it, spectators massed 
in solid array, determined, many of them, to 
wait and cheer the winner, he who first got back 
from Roxbridge. 


ROUND CITY HALL SQUARE 217 


The riders drew for position. Kerrison got the 
pole, and then, lined up in order, came Blake, 
Davis, Marr, Wales, Lorimer and Harriott, with 
Elverton on the outside. 

A moment later, the crack of the starter’s 
pistol echoed over the square, and the eight 
riders stooped and strained in their saddles, 
moving at first slowly, then faster and faster. 
The first lap was quickly reeled off, and as yet 
the wheelmen were pretty well bunched. 

As the second lap was half completed, Blake 
and Elverton took the lead. A change had come 
over the riders. Their heads were well over the 
handles, now, their lips grimly set, their expres- 
sions contorted into one almost of agony, and 
with ankles absolutely clawing the pedals round, 
and with thighs, knees and bodies working in 
perfect unison, they hit up a sprint. 

There was no loafing in this race, no attempt at 
loafing, and the delighted crowd yelled its ap- 
proval. Faster and faster grew the pace, and 
steadily the better men drew away from three 
or four who seemed to be already pumped out. 

Blake had opened up a gap, but, a bare length 
away, rode Lorimer, Harriott and Kerrison. 
Suddenly Harriott put in a lightning sprint and 
dispossessed Blake and Elverton of the lead. But 
Blake would not be shaken off, and as Kerrison 
and Lorimer inched up to the Millvale cyclist, 
the Roxbridge boy got in line with them. 


218 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


With the third lap half run, Harriott still led 
and had not turned a hair. Almost even with 
him rode Kerrison, Blake and Lorimer. 

Ten yards back came Elverton, the nearest 
man of the beaten quartet, and stringing along 
behind him were Davis, Marr and Wales. The 
spectators had already “ picked the winners,’ * 
and secure in their own leadership, the winners 
were taking it a little more easily than in that 
heart-breaking second round. 

But Paul Davis, the youngest and lightest of 
the Millvale four, was bound to make a better 
showing. He knew the Millvale two — the right 
two — were at the front and would remain there — 
but not for him that position he now held, with 
the last of the tail-enders ! 

Amid a roar of delight from the crowd, he sud- 
denly forced his machine ahead. Out of his 
place in the final trio, up toward Elverton, he 
dashed, and then, taking Jim’s measure, first 
lapped and then passed him with an amazing burst 
of speed, just as the four winners eased off at the 
tape. 

Elverton frankly held out his hand. 

“ Good enough, young one! ” he said. “ You 
caught me when I wasn’t looking — but it was 
my business to be looking, and I don’t say you 
couldn’t have done it, just the same, if I had 
been.” 

“ Thank you, Jim,” was Davis’s grateful 


ROUND CITY HALL SQUARE 219 


rejoinder. “ You’ve been in athletics so long that 
I knew you could afford to spare a little glory, 
and since this is about the first time I’ve had a 
real chance to prove myself, I was bound to do 
all there was in me.” 

Meanwhile the winners were taking the fifteen 
minutes’ rest to which the rules of the contest 
entitled them. But the spectators were busy 
enough to make up — busy applauding their 
favourites. 

“ We’ll be watching for you, Captain Jack! ” 
“Be the first home, Blake! ” “ More power to 

you, Kerrison! ” “ Harriott’s as good as won! ” 

“ Three cheers for Millvale High ! ” “ Come quick, 
Lorimer! ” “ Blake’s the man for my money! ” 

And punctuating such cries and comments arose 
the school cheers, rattling volley-like, while the 
girl friends of the schools waved their colours, 
and a band that nobody listened to, or could 
hear, played a rousing march. 

The intermission was almost over when Will 
Chapin quietly rode into the group of cyclists, 
dismounted, handed the wheel to Ned Harriott, 
and, mounting the wheel with which Ned had 
won the race around the square, rode as quietly 
away. Harriott and Lorimer exchanged signifi- 
cant glances. 

“ Sure you can depend on it, Ned? ” asked 
Lorimer. 

“ Certain sure, Jack,” Harriott answered. 


220 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Good luck to you, then, old boy! ” 

“ In line! ” the starter cried. 

And Harriott and Lorimer for Millvale, and 
Kerrison and Blake for Roxbridge, lined up a 
moment, and then, at the sound of the shot, 
pedalled swiftly away — every man a different 
road, it seemed — en route for Roxbridge, “ go- 
as-you-please! ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


NED AND HIS WHEEL IN BATTLE 

The road Ned Harriott pleased to take was — 
over the railroad track! 

It sounds like a crazy enterprise, but it was 
far from being such. Between Mill vale and Rox- 
bridge the track was just about “ as the crow 
flies.” It was almost exactly fifteen miles from 
one depot to the other, and, after much study 
of road maps and many explorations of short 
cuts, the boys could not plan any route that did 
not exceed that distance by more than two miles. 

Of course there was risk to the wheel, which 
probably stood more chance of a puncture than 
on the level highway. An outsider might have 
predicted serious danger to Ned, for he had to 
cross a long trestle and go through a tunnel; 
and at the sight of the bridge, to say nothing of 
the tunnel, the average rider would have gasped 
and turned backward. But Ned was not an 
average rider. 

He could have come pretty near to qualifying 
as an expert, and he could do things with his 
wheel that many a professional never dreams of 
221 


222 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


attempting. It was not an ordinary wheel, 
either, but a built-to-order machine, heavier 
than the average cycle, since it was reinforced 
at every point where there seemed to be the 
slightest chance of a breakdown. It was this 
wheel that Will Chapin had brought, taking away 
the light roadster Ned had ridden around the 
square; and, as he felt the stanch frame beneath 
him, Harriott smiled and patted the handle-bars 
in a way that was full of meaning. 

He durst not strike the railroad by the very 
shortest route, for Kerrison of Roxbridge had the 
nerve to follow that same course, if he was 
reminded of it, and some little accident might 
cripple one rider and leave the other free to go 
forward. But, cutting down Albany Street at 
a pace to throw off inquisitive pursuers, he took 
in a little stretch of Bank Street, and then, with 
one glance around, boldly switched his machine 
up on to the ties. 

It was hard wheeling, but he had expected that. 
The only way to make it anything less than 
intolerable was to keep up his best speed, take 
the ties in a continuous string, so to speak, and 
thus save some of the bounce and jar that would 
soon have unseated a slow rider. Yet he couldn’t 
stop to think of discomfort. He had to keep his 
eyes and his mind on his work. For there were 
a dozen places in the first five or six miles where 
the roadbed ran along a high embankment, and 


NED AND HIS WHEEL 223 


where, if his wheel had swerved a little, he would 
have pitched to the bottom of the cut. 

At the stations he sprinted. There were loafers 
hanging around who would want to know all 
about it, and he stooped low and put all his force 
into the pedals. The little he gained thus he 
probably lost when trains came along and he had 
to lift his wheel from the track ; but the momen- 
tary rest refreshed him, and he did not regret 
it. 

He took the trestle at a frantic rate, — it was 
the only way to cross those sleepers that seemed 
so woefully far apart, — but it neither scared him 
nor unseated him. The tunnel was a thing he 
dreaded worse. But he had mapped the course 
of it pretty carefully, and now he turned on a 
pocket search-light, which gave him much of the 
road ahead, and he came through to daylight 
without mishap. 

In a flash of thought he wondered, once in awhile, 
where Jack and the other fellows were. But he 
hadn’t much time to wonder. He just sprinted 
along, not even pausing to wipe the perspiration 
from his face. And, almost before he realized it, 
Roxbridge sights were in his eyes and ears, and 
it was time to leave the track again and take to 
the streets. 

After that wild ride a cobblestone pavement 
was a treat, and a bit of asphalt represented bliss. 
He got a good stretch of easy going toward the 


224 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


end, and came into Lincoln Square at a lively 
clip, feeling alert and ready for business. 

There was a crowd waiting. They cheered him 
heartily, though few of them knew who he was, 
and the judge and timekeeper smiled in a friendly 
way as they indorsed his identification check. 

“ First man in,” the judge said. “ And a 
Millvale man, eh? Oh, well, some of our fellows 
will catch you up on the way back. Which route 
did you take? ” 

“ That’s telling,” Harriott answered. “ Tell 
you to-morrow! ” And he was off again. 

It braced him amazingly to know that he was 
in the lead so far, and he did no “ soldiering ” 
over the soft places, but fairly ate up the mile 
he thought he ought to cover before taking to 
the track again. Nor did he loiter when the 
hard riding came, the procession of sleepers, but 
bumped along as perseveringly as if on level 
ground. 

The tunnel was in sight for the second time, 
when suddenly his eye, happening to glance aside, 
was caught by the rails. He checked himself 
and looked again. Yes, it was as that first casual 
glance had notified him. At the edge of a steep 
embankment, one rail had been lifted bodily! 

That meant accident — or rather, murder! 
The first train that passed that way would be 
thrown down the embankment! 

And where was the nearest station? Yes, he 


NED AND HIS WHEEL 225 


remembered now, it was on the other side of the 
tunnel, more than a mile away. He tore through 
the tunnel as if fiends were after him, not even 
stopping to switch on his search-light. 

But, once through, he broke his pace as abruptly 
as he had done before. There were four men on 
the track just ahead of him. It almost seemed 
as if they must have come through the tunnel. 

“ Go back through the tunnel to the next 
station on the Roxbridge side! ” he shouted. 
“ The track’s torn up, back there, and there’ll 
be a wreck! ” 

The effect of his words was electrical. With a 
swift exchange of glances, the men ranged them- 
selves across the track at a distance of about 
ten yards. Harriott was forced to stop and 
dismount. Threatening looks on the faces of 
the strangers made him suspicious. 

“ Out of my way! ” he cried. “ I haven’t a 
second to lose, I tell you! The track’s been torn 
up. A train may come along at any minute. If 
it does it will be wrecked and people will be 
killed. Let me pass! ” 

There was another swift exchange of glances, 
and some low mumbling. 

“ Do you hear me? ” demanded Ned, preparing 
to go on. 

“You don’t get past us, young feller,” said 
one of the men, taking a threatening grip of his 
club. 


226 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ What do you mean? I tell you it’s a matter 
of life or death! ” 

“ ’Tain’t no concern of yours.” 

Harriott took a look at the hangdog quartet, 
and his first dim suspicion deepened into some- 
thing like certainty. These rascals were up to 
deadly mischief, and they would stick at nothing 
to prevent his riding on to give the alarm. But 
his mind was made up. He would pass them at 
all hazards. 

“Out of the way!” he shouted, leaping into 
the saddle. He got on speed at once. Instinc- 
tively the men, in their surprise, obeyed his order, 
ranging themselves at the side of the track. But 
in the next instant they came to themselves and 
moved together as if to hem him in. 

Quicker than it takes to tell it, Ned was abreast 
of the strangers. Then something happened. 

Abruptly the cyclist checked his progress and 
gave a wrench at the handle-bars of his machine. 
Up flew the heavy front wheel with Harriott bal- 
ancing himself adroitly on the back one. Then, 
with a sudden jerk, he whirled the machine 
around. The front wheel caught one of the men 
on the thigh, sending him sprawling down the 
embankment. 

Round and round spun the bicycle like a top, 
with the back tire for peg. Down went another 
man. Then, throwing his weight forward, Harriott 
righted the wheel in an instant, and before the 


NED AND d^HIS WHEEL 227 


other two ruffians could put out a hand to stop 
him, he was off along the track. 

Riding his hardest to make up for lost time, a 
sudden sound filled him with dread alarm. Borne 
on the breeze from far, far away, he heard the 
whistle of an engine. Harriott set his teeth 
and pedalled for very life. 

A gasp of relief escaped him as, looking up, he 
sighted a little station. The station-master was 
there too, conspicuous in his uniform coat and 
cap. With a final burst of speed Ned dashed 
up to the platform and, letting his wheel roll where 
it would, made a flying leap toward the man. 

“Stop the train!” he gasped. “Stop the 
train! ” 

Open-mouthed the station-master stared at 
the lad who had dropped on him so unexpectedly, 
and with such a message. 

“Stop the train, man! Stop the train, or it 
will be wrecked! The rails have been torn up! ” 

At last! At last the station-master understood. 
He rushed for his red flag and waved it des- 
perately, frantically. 

It was almost too late. As the locomotive 
dashed by, Ned could see the engineer craning 
his neck around for another look, as if unable to 
realize that his express had been delayed at such 
a mean little station. Surprise and anger were 
clearly expressed in his face. 

But, since it was so, there must be some reason 


228 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


for it, and he durst not disobey the signal. The 
air-brakes were applied. Slowly the speed slack- 
ened, and at last the flyer came to a stop at the 
very mouth of the tunnel, just short of the spot 
where danger waited. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THERE AND BACK WITH THE OTHERS 

The experiences of Kerrison and Blake, the 
Roxbridge riders, have not much part in this 
story. In fact Blake’s experience practically 
ended at Roxbridge, since, before he had fairly 
started on his return to Millvale, he took a header 
on a wet asphalt pavement, and threw out his 
shoulder. And Kerry, who had the happy-go- 
lucky temperament strongly developed, tried a 
short cut on the return journey, and got hopelessly 
lost within four miles of his goal. 

But, as has been seen, Ned Harriott had an 
adventure large enough for the whole bunch. 
And Captain Jack, perhaps because he was 
engaged in a go-as-you-please, seemed to be 
called on by everybody to do some pleasing. 

Lorimer’s route, planned after a good many 
consultations, was largely composed of such short 
cuts as brought Kerrison to grief. For a mile 
or so out of the fifteen, he could follow roads 
that parallelled the railroad track; but most 
of his journey led him from the highway, through 
lanes, across fields, and, in one instance, through 
229 


230 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 

a strip of woods where there was not so much as 
a footpath. 

It was not so very long after he left City Hall 
Square, that he had his first chance to do a good 
turn. He didn’t hunt for it, but it rose up and 
smacked him, so to speak, and nearly broke his 
neck; for, as he turned a corner sharply into 
an alley, he came upon an overturned farm wagon 
that, with the prostrate horse, completely blocked 
the thoroughfare. 

As he pulled up, just in time to avoid a spill, 
a grizzled old farmer, at work at the tangled 
harness, looked up pitifully. 

“ Say, neighbour, help me get this hoss up, 
will ye? ” he asked. 

“ But I’m racing! ” Lorimer objected. 

“Be ye? So was this hoss.’’ And Captain 
Jack laughed and spent five precious minutes 
in helping the old man to get the horse on his 
feet and right the cart. 

Half-way to Roxbridge, Lorimer met another 
delay, though that was only for a minute, when 
he came upon a big boy beating a small one, and 
stopped long enough to give the bully an emphatic 
warning and make sure the little fellow had a 
chance to escape. 

Not much farther on, he knocked down a small 
girl who, when she saw him coming, first decided 
to stay on one side of the street, then concluded 
to go to the other, and ended by running under 









4 






























































T 

































% 


4 




THERE AND BACK 


231 


the wheel. Every cyclist meets that kind, but 
not every cyclist has the patience to stop and 
comfort the hen-minded sufferer, as Captain Jack 
did. 

But all these things took time. When he got 
to Lincoln Square, he found that Harriott, Kerri- 
son and Blake were all ahead of him. It looked 
as though he was tagged for “ It.” 

Well, it was a relief, anyway, to know that 
Ned’s perilous experiment at the railroad track 
was going all right so far; and the Roxbridge 
fellows were good fellows and friends, and, if 
they won, there would be no occasion to tear his 
hair. But, since Harriott was taking more risk 
than anybody else in the race, it did really seem 
that he ought to have better backing, and on the 
homeward journey, Lorimer decided, it would be 
something really serious that delayed him. 

Fate was kind, at first. He made up a lot of 
time, and had come to that patch of woods, only 
six miles from the starting and stopping place, 
when the delay arrived. 

In the deepest of the wood, where the shadows 
lay thickly, and he had to slow up and pick 
his way, a wild-looking stranger stepped suddenly 
out before him with a grotesque flourish of 
welcome. 

The stranger was ragged, but the rags had been 
expensive garments, once; and though his talk 
and actions were queer, to say the least, he had 


232 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


the accent and manner of a gentleman. He 
came close to Lorimer and made another bow. 

“ After many days! ” he said. “ I rejoice to 
perceive that the king of this country has at last 
sent an intelligent youth to assist my experiments 
in gravitation.” 

“ Yes? ” Jack answered. “ May I ask, sir, 
what particular experiment you have in mind 
at present? ” 

The ragged stranger came close and hissed the 
answer in Lorimer’s ear. 

“ It has to do with the alternate play of the 
principles of attraction and repulsion between 
animal and vegetable substances,” he said. “ In 
brief, my theory is that, if I attach myself to the 
very top of the tallest tree — I have selected the 
tree — that tree will bend and ultimately fall. 
I can not perform this experiment unaided, it 
being beyond my skill to sustain myself while 
securing myself. But I perceive that you have a 
leather belt, and by that token I know that you 
were sent to aid me. Shall we begin? ” 

It was a puzzling situation. The man was 
evidently insane. But how to humour him to a 
point where he could be taken care of, was a 
question that might have perplexed a wiser mind. 
It would not do to fight with him, or to frighten 
him into disappearing, and Jack was at a loss 
what to say, until there popped into his head the 
thought of a certain sub-police station, at the 


THERE AND BACK 


233 


edge of Millvale and a mile or two outside his 
route, where the sergeant in charge was a genial 
and tactful man. 

“It is true, sir,” he said, “ that the king of 
this country heartily approves your experiments, 
but he desires to suggest that they take a some- 
what different course. The play of attraction 
and repulsion between animal and mineral sub- 
stances seems to him the more important prin- 
ciple to be determined at present, and he has 
commanded me to lend my aid to attach you to 
the weather-vane of the tallest church steeple in 
this part of his dominions.” 

“ Ha! Hum! ” the lunatic muttered. Jack 
watched him anxiously. But suddenly the other’s 
face brightened, as he came to a conclusion. 

“It is for his Majesty to command, and for a 
humble student to obey,” he said. “ Lead me 
to the scene of the experiment, and I shall reward 
you liberally! ” 

Then followed for Lorimer a half-hour of heart- 
breaking strain and anxiety as, watching the 
madman’s every mood and agreeing with his 
craziest conclusions, he led him toward the place 
where that fine old sergeant would be found. 

Happily they met the officer on the road, and 
Captain Jack, with all due gravity, described the 
stranger’s' purpose. The sergeant approved, of 
course, but invited the lunatic to eat and sleep 
before he carried it out. Promising to return 


234 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and lead the man to “ the scene of the experi- 
ment,” Lorimer pedalled away. 

It was probably not worth while, now, to try 
to make up time, but he did his best, and his best 
was very good indeed. Almost before he knew it, 
he struck into that mile which parallelled the 
railroad; and, as he happened to glance toward 
the track, his gaze fell on Ned Harriott, who was 
just trundling his wheel down the embankment 
to the road. 

“ Tire? ” Jack called. Harriott nodded. 

“ Busted — blew right up, just now,” he said. 
Then in the briefest terms he described the 
happenings back at the tunnel. 

“ But you want to be getting along,” he said. 
“ If I’m out of it, no reason why I should delay 
you.” 

“I’m already delayed, bless you,” Lorimer 
responded. “ Of course those other fellows were 
home long ago.” 

“ Never can tell,” Ned argued. “ Get a move 
on! Tell mother and sister I’m coming! ” he 
added with a melancholy grin. 

Mainly because it was his principle never to 
give up until he knew the game was over, Lorimer 
“ hit her up.” To his intense astonishment he 
found he had brought in Millvale winner. 

Nobody knew where Kerrison was. As a matter 
of fact, Kerry was over in “ Slabtown,” so called, 
wandering around in back alleys and being grossly 


THERE AND BACK 


235 


misdirected by mischievous little boys. But 
Blake’s accident had been reported, and Captain 
Jack was able to tell of the events in which Har- 
riott had borne so large a part. 

It was due to the fellows that these things 
should be made known to their friends, many of 
whom had been waiting impatiently for nearly 
three hours ; and, following the official announce- 
ment of results, and the applause, the judge raised 
his hand for silence. 

“ I regret to say that Mr. George Blake of 
Roxbridge threw out his shoulder by a fall, early 
in the return journey, and was compelled to 
retire,” he said. “ Mr. Blake rode a game race, 
up to that moment, and his friends might rea- 
sonably have expected to see him land a winner. 

“ In justice to Mr. Edward Harriott of Mill- 
vale,” the judge went on, “ who took the difficult 
and dangerous route down the railroad track, 
and was the first rider to reach Roxbridge, I 
should say that, near the tunnel near Roxbridge, 
he discovered the work of train- wreckers, four 
miscreants who had a grievance against the 
railroad. 

“ He escaped from the wreckers, gave warning 
just in time to save a heavily loaded train, and 
afterward assisted in capturing the villains. Mr. 
Lorimer generously adds that, even with the 
handicap of so much time lost, Mr. Harriott 
would have been here ahead of him, but for a 


236 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


punctured tire. I propose three cheers for Mr. 
Harriott and Mr. Blake.” 

Of course Captain Jack did his share of the 
cheering. But when it was all over, he turned to 
Tom Bell. 

“ They ought to leave out the cheers for the 
rest of us and give them all to Ned,” he said. 
“ He was the only man in that race! ” 

Perhaps Lorimer was more modest than he 
needed to be. At any rate, though he did not 
now suspect it, he was destined soon to figure in 
another kind of race, in which he himself would 
be “ the only man.” 


CHAPTER XXX 


SOMEBODY ELSE TO RIDE THE ROGUE 

“ Music! Don’t talk about anything so tame! ” 
said May Roxton. She pretended to be vexed, 
and very much in earnest, but there was a twinkle 
in her eye which Jack Lorimer did not overlook. 
“ I don’t care anything about music! ” she went 
on. “I’m interested in nothing but horses and 
racing! ” 

“ Going to ride King Tom, are you? ” Captain 
Jack asked, slyly; and then May became really 
serious, and answered with a vigour that left him 
in no doubt as to how she felt. 

“ I wish to goodness I could! ” she said. 

It was Monday afternoon, and they were 
strolling slowly home from the depot. The train 
by which May returned from her music lesson in 
Boston reached Mill vale half an hour after school 
closed, and somehow it seemed to happen that 
on those three days of the week Captain Jack 
had business in that vicinity about that time. 
Generally the walk to the Roxton place was all 
a pleasure. But to-day May had seemed worried 
and upset from the first, and now she acted as 
237 


238 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


if she wanted to confide her troubles — which 
were not her own, after all. 

“ I met Uncle George Burtis in Boston,” she 
said. “ He was just savage. I didn’t think he 
could be so cross. It’s all about King Tom. It 
appears by what the trainer tells him that the 
horse is turning into a regular demon. There’s 
only one jockey dares to mount him. And that 
fellow, Benbar — ” 

“ Yes? ” Lorimer suggested, as she paused a 
moment. 

“ Well, Benbar ’s trying to take advantage, 
Uncle George thinks. You know Uncle George, 
so you can understand how anything like that 
would enrage him. Probably if it was left entirely 
to his generosity he’d give the jockey twice his 
fee, but to be held up, as he calls it, made to pay 
more than the rider gets from other people — 
Oh, the language he used about it is perfectly 
shocking! And yet,” May added, with a roguish 
smile, “ I think if I was a man in his place I’d 
talk just as he does! ” 

“ Queer about King Tom, though,” Lorimer 
said, thoughtfully. “ He’s a spirited horse, one 
that doesn’t want to be fooled with, but I can’t 
imagine him as really evil-tempered.” 

“ Nor I,” May agreed, and she was almost 
in tears about it. “ Great, splendid fellow, I 
believe he’s being slandered. I’m going out to 
the park, to-morrow morning, to see him.” 


TO RIDE THE ROGUE 239 


44 To the park? ” 

44 Yes; the horse has been at Ely’s place, near 
there, for several days. To-morrow morning 
they’re planning to give him a trial.” 

44 Why don’t you invite me to come with you? ” 
Jack asked. 

44 I will. I do. Uncle George won’t mind, I’m 
sure. Probably it’ll be a relief to him to have 
one more to listen to his — his language! ” 

Lorimer could easily understand why Mr. 
Burtis would use 44 language.” If matters stood 
as May had reported, his pride was being wounded 
in more ways than one. 

Five years before, a syndicate that expected 
great results from the investment had laid out 
a half-mile track on the outskirts of Millvale. 
A three days’ meeting had been planned, with 
bookmakers and all the metropolitan 44 fixings.” 
But the authorities, local and State, promptly 
got after the gamblers, and the meeting involved 
the promoters in serious loss. 

The year following, the track went unused. 
But, the year after that, a number of Millvale 
men and men with Millvale connections — of whom 
Mr. Burtis was one — bought the place for a song, 
and gratified pure love of sport by racing their 
own horses, not caring much whether there were 
any spectators or not. They had a good deal of 
pleasure, which they were willing to pay for and 
anxious to enjoy again. 


240 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


But of course in any such association there are 
men who dislike each other, and Mr. Burtis was 
at swords’ points with Col. Mills, another member. 
Their horses had met twice as competitors, and 
twice Col. Mills’s stable had won. This year Mr. 
Burtis had exulted in the prospect of King Tom 
distancing anything his rival could bring forward. 
The Burtis horse’s victory had for months been 
conceded. And now, if King Tom had gone 
wrong — ! 

To make matters worse, it had lately been 
reported to Mr. Burtis that Col. Mills had bought 
a horse, Tyrant, which at least would give his 
own entry a hard run ; and the prospect of being 
defeated a third time by his enemy was almost 
more than May’s uncle could bear. 

Yet, if there was only one jockey who could 
ride King Tom, Mr. Burtis must either submit to 
be put under his thumb, or else give up the idea 
of winning. May’s uncle was an independent 
sort of citizen, who had started his fortune in a 
mining camp and learned there to maintain his 
rights, and to keep his hands off the jockey who 
meant to blackmail him was a pretty severe strain. 

Jack wondered how he stood it. Wonderment 
deepened momentarily from the instant he entered 
the park on the following morning. And yet he 
was behindhand in arriving, and didn’t see and 
hear all that happened to irritate the owner of 
the horse. 


TO RIDE THE ROGUE 241 


Mr. Burtis and May were early at the trainer’s 
stable, but, early as it was, half the string of 
thoroughbreds of which Trainer Ely had charge 
had already left the yard. 

“ Mr. Ely’s taken out King and three good ones, 
with four of our best boys up,” said Donnell, the 
trainer’s foreman. “ Yes, sir, of course he’ll 
wait for you before he pulls off the trial.” 

“ How is the horse? ” asked Mr. Burtis, 
anxiously. 

“ Sound as anything, sir, and feeding well; 
but Mr. Ely’s fair puzzled. Says he’s either an 
uncommon good one or a thorough rogue. We 
can’t seem to do much with him here in the 
stables, and that’s the truth! ” 

“ How’s that? ” 

“ Shows fight if you even so much as go to 
turn over his straw,” the foreman answered. 
“ Nearly brained the boy that saddled him, this 
morning. And when we take him out — well, 
he runs like a champion for three or four furlongs 
and then gives it up and sulks. The Mystery, I 
call him! ” 

Mr. Burtis changed the subject abruptly. 

“ Benbar here? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, sir, he’s gone over to the park. We 
didn’t much expect him this morning — him 
and Mr. Ely had words last night, and Benbar 
swore he wouldn’t come near the trial — but he 
came, after Mr. Ely and the others had started, 


242 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


so I suppose you can have him up in place of 
our boy.” 

Mr. Burtis turned away. Then he came back 
a step. 

“ Er — what do you hear of Col. Mills’s Tyrant, 
Donnell? ” he asked, in a rather shamefaced tone. 

“ Well, sir, they do say he’s shaping up fine,” 
was the foreman’s unwilling but honest reply. 

Mr. Burtis switched at a mullein stalk viciously. 

“ Oh, well, there’s many a slip,” he quoted. 
“ King Tom may beat him, yet! ” 

“ Hope so, sir — and I’d wish it harder if it 
was anybody but Benbar riding him. That’s a 
vicious animal himself, you know! ” 

Indeed, the jockey looked it, as he came for- 
ward to touch his cap — and incidentally to ask 
for an advance of fifty dollars. He was a wizened 
runt of a man, bow-legged, with long, ape-like 
arms and something of the expression of a gorilla, 
and he talked with a surly croak that set May’s 
teeth on edge. 

“ This Ely gang don’t know how to run a 
stable,” he said, with a hostile glance toward the 
trainer, who was busy with the bunch of horses, 
a few yards away. “ It was a chump trick, 
handin’ the King over to ’em. I was mighty nigh 
not cornin’ down here, this mornin’, bet your 
life! ” 

The owner gnawed his lip, but tried to speak 
pleasantly. 


TO RIDE THE ROGUE 243 


“ Oh, well, Benbar, of course it’s your place 
to be in the saddle for the trial,” he said. “ I’m 
counting on you to show us the horse at his 
best.” 

The jockey chuckled in his mean and sneering 
way. 

“If I wasn’t in the saddle you wouldn’t see 
anybody else there — not past the quarter-mile 
post,” he answered. “ There’s nobody else can 
stay on the hoss! ” 

Touching his cap indifferently, he walked over 
to where the horses waited. His face purple with 
suppressed rage, Mr. Burtis glared after him. 

“ By Jove, I wish I could find somebody else 
to ride King Tom! ” he muttered. 

May squeezed his arm and nodded at Captain 
Jack, who had just entered the enclosure. But 
not yet did Mr. Burtis understand all she meant. 

“ Ah, yes, Lorimer,” he said. That his niece 
put forward Captain Jack as a jockey was the 
last thought that would have entered his head. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


THAT TRIAL RUN WITH MIDNIGHT 

Even as Captain Jack approached his friends, 
the four horses got away, and it seemed but a 
moment later when they were rounding the turn 
and approaching the finish. 

Two chestnuts, a bay and a black made up 
the quartet. The black had the advantage. Of 
the two chestnuts, one was tailed off ten lengths 
or more, and the other was fourth. There was 
no mistaking the horse that was last. It was King 
Tom! 

At that result Mr. Burtis’s irritation, so long 
repressed, had to break out. He motioned Benbar 
forward. 

“ I thought you said you could ride King Tom, 
and you were the only one,” he cried, angrily. 
“Well, if you can ride him, why don’t you? ” 

“ I ain’t promisin’ anybody can ride him to 
win! ” was the jockey’s sullen reply. 

As if to emphasize the criticisms that had been 
passed upon the horse, King Tom at that moment 
gave a lurch that nearly unshipped his rider. 
Benbar’s retort was to hit him between the ears 
244 


THAT TRIAL RUN 


245 


with the butt-end of his riding- whip. Involun- 
tarily Jack Lorimer sprang forward. 

“ Hold up, you brute! ” he cried. “ That’s 
not the way to treat King Tom! ” 

The jockey stared and sneered; but it was the 
horse of which Captain Jack was thinking. 

“ If he’s savage, he’s become so very quickly,” 
he said, turning toward May and Burtis in an 
explanatory way. “ I don’t believe it! 

“ King, here, King, don’t you know me? ” he 
called. “King, lad! Hi, hi! ” 

The racer pricked up his ears, turned round, 
stretched his beautiful neck toward Jack Lorimer, 
sniffed the air as if to get scent of him, and then 
gave a whinny of delight. In another moment 
Jack had him by the bridle and was stroking his 
ears. And then Lorimer decided on a bold move. 
“ Get out of the saddle! ” he said. 

Benbar’s mouth opened, and he gaped in sheer 
bewilderment. 

“ Get out of the saddle, I say! ” Jack repeated. 
And then the jockey found his tongue. 

“You hear this cub? ” he snarled. “ Mind 
you, boss, if I gets out I stays out! ” 

“ Well, get out! ” roared Mr. Burtis. “ To be 
tied to an ape like you involves more degradation 
than victory is worth! ” 

Sullenly, with a vicious glance at Lorimer, 
the jockey dropped down. In an instant Jack 
was in the seat, his hand on the reins. 


246 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 

For a moment he sat there, patting and petting 
the beautiful beast, instilling confidence, winning 
King Tom by kindness. Then he was off “ like 
a streak of greased lightning.” Trainer Ely, who 
was well mounted, galloped after, but he was 
dropped hopelessly within fifty yards, and away 
went the pair like the wind, the chestnut showing 
such unusual form and willingness that the 
trainer stared aghast. 

“ Pat,” he cried to one of his stable boys, 
“ go back and ask Donnell to put on his colors 
and ride up here on Midnight. Tell him I want 
him as soon as he can come.” 

“ What do you intend to do? ” asked Mr. 
Burtis. 

“ Try King Tom, with that lad up, against 
Midnight, the best animal in the stable, a winner, 
and in fine racing fettle. If the chestnut can hold 
him any part of the mile, it’ll be good enough for 
me. 

“ I believe there’s something in the horse, after 
all, sir, and it’s taken that boy to bring it out. The 
beast wants humouring, that’s all — though I 
don’t think there’s a lad in my stable or a jockey 
on the turf could coax the brute like that! ” 

“ Think you’ve struck a little wonder, don’t 
yer? ” sneered Benbar, the jockey. He had 
watched Lorimer’s performance with as much 
amazement as the others, and with envy and 
anger also. But in spite of the threat with which 


THAT TRIAL RUN 


247 


he had dismounted, he was not yet ready to give 
up his profitable engagement. 

“ It’s one thing to jolly a hoss into a little run, 
and another thing to take him around a track 
through half a dozen more! ” he added, signif- 
icantly. 

“ Very true, Benbar, very true,” Mr. Burtis 
responded. He was slowly working back to his 
previous idea that Benbar must ride the race — 
that there was no one but Benbar — and so he 
tried to be civil to the man. And just as he 
retreated to his old position of dependence, so 
the jockey advanced, determined while he was 
about it to establish a hold that there could be 
no shaking off. 

“ Jockeys with a reputation don’t have to worry 
about mounts,” he said, with an unpleasant laugh. 
“Ain’t none too many of us footloose — round 
here, anyways. Col. Mills sent for me yesterday 
and asked me if I’d ride his Tyrant.” 

“ And what did you tell him? ” Mr. Burtis 
demanded sharply. 

“ Told him to leave it open a day or two,” the 
jockey answered, with an evil grin. 

“What! You — ” But May laid her hand 
on her uncle’s arm. 

“ Don’t argue with the rascal,” she whispered. 

“ Let him go! Jack will ride King Tom! ” 

“ Jack? ” Mr. Burtis hadn’t thought of that. 
He rubbed his forehead, as if to stir up his brain, 


248 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and stared from his niece to the handsome lad 
who so gracefully bestrode the big horse. 

“ I mean it! ” May murmured. 

“Well! Well!” Mr. Burtis answered, help- 
lessly. “We’ll wait and see the result of this trial.” 

Benbar, the jockey, had moved aside, as if to 
show that he was independent and indifferent. 
But he watched every movement of the horse 
and rider, and his face told the jealous pangs with 
which he saw every evidence of King Tom’s 
docility. 

“Ah! here’s Donnell!” Trainer Ely cried, 
excitedly, as his foreman rode up on a splendid 
black. 

“ Donnell,” he went on, “ King Tom seems to 
be showing form all at once — thanks to this 
young man. Mr. Lorimer, is it? Yes, Mr. Lori- 
mer. Well, Donnell, I want you to go over the 
course with him. Don’t favour him any, you 
understand. Let your horse out. Either I’m 
crazy now, or I have been up to this time, and I 
want to find out which it is ! 

“ All ready? ” he added, as he swung his field- 
glasses around from his shoulder. “ Go! ” 

Less than two minutes later the trial had been 
run — and King Tom had won in a canter by 
five lengths, and come home on the bit. The 
chestnut with his amateur jockey had beaten the 
winner of many a purse, ridden by one of the 
craftiest whips in the country. 


THAT TRIAL RUN 


249 


“ Well, Donnell,’ ’ said the master of the training 
stables, “ what do you think of it, now? ” 

“ Think of it! ” answered the foreman, with a 
wide, delighted grin. “ Why, that we’ve all been 
fooled! You’ve got the winner there, sir, to a 
certainty! ” 

“ Yes,” said the trainer, “ provided Mr. Lorimer 
would ride! ” 

“ What’s to prevent him? ” May broke in. 

It was not so much that she answered the 
trainer. She spoke to Jack and her uncle both — 
and neither for the moment knew what to say. 

Benbar the jockey was at no such loss. He 
saw his supremacy slipping from him, and it 
made him frantic with rage. 

“You mean to say you’d trust a valuable hoss 
in a race with a young squirt like that? ” he 
snarled. “ Sure there ain’t any man that ever 
had anything to do with race-horses would be 
such a fool as that! ” 

The others paid no heed to him. 

“ Will you ride for me, Lorimer? ” Mr. Burtis 
asked half-imploringly. 

“ Say yes, Jack! ” May cried. 

“All right, I’ll say yes!” Lorimer answered 
with a smile. 

“ Now that’s what I call good news! ” Trainer 
Ely exclaimed; and Donnell, still a-grin, rode 
forward and offered his hand, which Captain 
Jack gripped heartily. 


250 JACK LORIMER/S HOLIDAYS 


u You know why I want to win,” Mr. Burtis 
said, slowly, as if trying to collect his thoughts. 
“ I’ve always felt sure I could win with that 
horse, if he had a fair chance — ” 

“ Well, you ain’t a-goin’ to win, if I’m out of 
it! ” Benbar, the jockey, interrupted. “ I’ll ride 
Tyrant, now, — ride him for all I’m worth, — if 
I have to do it for nothin’ ! ” 

Mr. Burtis turned on him savagely. 

“ It won’t be for nothing! ” he exclaimed. 
“You can consider that all the money you’ve 
had from me was to purchase your treachery to 
my interests! That’s your disposition, I think! 

“ Get out of here, now,” he added, “ before I 
forget myself and do you an injury! ” 

With a last malignant scowl at Captain Jack, 
and a mutter of malice deep in his throat, the 
jockey slunk away. 

“ Hope you’ll spend as much time as you can 
with us, Mr. Lorimer, between this and Satur- 
day,” the trainer said, anxiously. “ It’s an old- 
fashioned theory of mine that, the better the 
horse and rider know each other, the better race 
they run.” 

“ Don’t worry about that, Mr. Ely,” was the 
smiling reply. “ Probably you’ll get sick of 
me! 

“ I must leave you now, though,” Captain Jack 
added. “ Mill vale High School has the call from 
9 to 2, you know. Good thing such trials as this 


THAT TRIAL RUN 


251 


are run at sunrise. I can pretend this takes the 
place of my morning exercise! ” 

But he did not take so cheerful a tone when, 
having said good-bye to the grateful horse- 
owner, — and to his horse, — he and May had left 
the park. 

“ It’s a mean way to get back at my football, 
May Roxton! ” he said, in a half-serious tone. 

“ What? How? ” was the startled response. 

“I’m heavy for riding. Have to take down 
my weight, you know, and do it in a hurry. That 
means Turkish baths, since I keep reasonably 
‘ fine * all the time ; and when you see me thin as 
a match and staggering from weakness, won’t 
you wish you could see me, instead, fat and 
handsome as I am now, bucking away on the 
gridiron? ” 

“ I never thought of that! ” May spoke in a 
shocked whisper. “I’m going right back and 
tell Uncle George you won’t ride! ” 

Jack laughed and caught her arm. “ You’ll 
do nothing of the sort, sweetheart,” he said. 
“ I was only joking. The flesh I sacrifice will 
come back — or as much of it as I need. Uncle 
George has been kind to me, and I’m glad to 
make some slight return. I’m going to ride for 
him — and I’m going to win! ” 


CHAPTER XXXII 


A DEAD HEAT AND A VICTORY 

A restless week was that, for January Jones! 
When he heard about the race that Captain Jack 
was to ride, he fairly went wild. 

News of the race reached him on Tuesday 
night. Wednesday, he was at the park at sunrise, 
and when the trainer’s “ string ” came out, King 
Tom included, the fat boy, roosting on the fence, 
watched with all his eyes and fell in love with 
every horse. And after the trial he was lifted to 
the seventh heaven by Captain Jack, who got him 
permission to follow the horses home. 

Strangers are not wanted in training stables, 
and an honest face alone doesn’t take any one very 
far inside. But Mr. Ely had noticed the fat boy 
and found him entertaining, and when Lorimer 
vouched for his good sense and reliability the 
trainer made him welcome. 

So on Wednesday and Thursday January 
spent every spare moment, beginning at 5 o’clock 
in the morning, with his new friends. He grew 
to be so much at home that on Thursday after- 
noon Donnell, the foreman, sent him to the city 
on an important errand. 


A DEAD HEAT 


253 


He was returning from that when he was 
accosted, within a few rods of the stables, by a 
young man who was as thin as January himself 
was stout — a wizened runt of a man, bow- 
legged, with long, ape-like arms, and something 
of the expression of a gorilla; not an attractive 
man in face or voice or manner, and yet he seemed 
friendly, for he tossed the fat boy a big red apple, 
such as he himself was eating. 

“ Lots of ’em in my orchard,” he said. “ Like 
to pass ’em around. Try it. Bully, eh? ” 

“ It’s prime, Hi thank you, sir,” January 
answered. “ Hi’d like to ’ave a horchard full of 
that kind.” 

“ Eat it up and have another. Have another,” 
the stranger urged. “ I take a bag full, or fill 
my pockets, every time I go out, and I like to give 
’em away. Proud of ’em, you know! ” 

January took another. Donnell would not be 
looking for him back, yet awhile, and he could 
eat apples till the cows came home. 

“Where bound?” the stranger asked, sud- 
denly. “ Just strolling around, like myself? ” 

“ Hi’m on me way to Mr. Hely’s stables,” 
January replied. 

“So? Work there?” 

“ No, sir ; Hi’m just a friend of theirs, ye know.” 

N “ Some good hosses in the stable, now? ” the 
stranger went on. 

“ ’Eaps of ’em! ” 


254 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ What’s the best one? ” 

“ Hi think King Tom’s the best,” was January’s 
prompt reply. 

“ King Tom, eh? Well, if he’s a favourite of 
yours, give him an apple for me! ” And, with a 
croak that seemed intended for a laugh, the 
stranger took an apple out of a different pocket 
and offered it to the boy. 

January laughed also — but he shook his head. 

“ Hi’d like to, thank ye, sir, but Hi can’t,” he 
said. “ Nobody’s supposed to give hanythink to 
the ’osses — nobody but the feeders, you know.” 

“Oh, well, you could slip it to him on the 
quiet,” suggested the stranger. 

January curled his lip, shook his head again, 
and started to walk on. But the stranger hailed 
him. 

“ Now, see here,” the young man said, in a 
wheedling way, and with a wide, artificial grin, 
“ I’m a man that takes notions, and when I take 
one I hate to be spoiled on it. I took a notion, 
when you spoke of that hoss you liked, that ’ere 
King Tom, that I’d send him an apple, see? I’ll 
give you five dollars, cash in advance, if you’ll 
give King Tom this apple! ” 

January looked at him suspiciously. Already 
the fat boy had heard tales of ingenious ways in 
which race-horses are “hocussed” and put out 
of the running, and this recalled them to his mind. 

“ Not me! ” he answered. “ You can take the 


A DEAD HEAT 


255 


happle to Mr. Hely or Mr. Donnell, hif ye want. 
Hi won’t! ” 

“You’re a fat chump!” snarled the stranger. 

“ Hi think you’re a bloomink crook, what? ” 
the fat boy retorted. 

“ I’ll show you! ” 

The young man dropped from the fence on 
which he was perched and took after January. 
But the race did not last very long. When they 
reached a turn in the road from which the training 
stables were visible, the stranger stopped short; 
and in another moment he had dived back again 
around the corner. 

Of course the reader has already suspected that 
it was Benbar, the jockey, who was so generously 
anxious to send King Tom an apple. To that 
attempt there was a sequel, which Lorimer heard 
on Saturday morning. 

“ Had a call from a friend of ours, last night,” 
said Donnell, the foreman. “ One of the dogs 
caught Benbar sneaking around here — looking 
for a chance to dose King Tom, probably. We 
handed him a few swift kicks and then turned 
him over to a policeman. Wish we had let him 
come inside, so we could send him to jail for 
breaking and entering! As it is, I suppose he 
won’t get anything more’n a fine for trespass — 
but he spent the night in a cell, anyway! ” 

Captain Jack was sorry to hear of it. He feared 
that Mr. Burtis might suspect Col. Mills, Benbar’s 


256 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


new employer, of being concerned in a design to 
drug King Tom, and that this would deepen the 
bitterness between the two men. But it proved 
that Mr. Burtis viewed the incident in a fair- 
minded way. 

“ Mills had nothing to do with it,” he declared. 
“ He’s a blatherskite, but not a rascal. The plan 
to reach King Tom was the jockey’s private enter- 
prise. He hates us both, since I turned him off, 
and you’ll have to look out for tricks, this after- 
noon! ” 

I’ll watch him, 5 ’ Lorimer answered. 

Actually he felt no apprehension. King Tom, 
though spirited as ever, had been lamb-like with 
him all the week. He had run true to form at 
every trial, and had shown some wonderful per- 
formances, and though Col. Mills’s Tyrant was 
undoubtedly a good horse, Jack thought he 
bestrode a better. 

It turned out that theirs was the only race in 
which people felt much interest. A seven-furlong 
race for two-year-olds preceded it, but, though 
some promising youngsters came out and there 
was a close finish, it failed to arouse any great 
enthusiasm. But as the time for the mile-and-a- 
quarter drew near, the crowd began to thicken 
and everybody looked expectant. 

Benbar, who had that morning paid a twenty- 
dollar fine for trespass on Trainer Ely’s premises, 
scowled blackly at Lorimer as they met in the 


A DEAD HEAT 


257 


saddling paddock, but Jack only smiled at him. 
The ill-will of one — and such a one! — didn’t 
count for an evil omen; and, for a sign of luck, 
Mr. Burtis’s colours were those of Millvale High, 
red and white, and, though Jack was not super- 
stitious, he found encouragement in it. 

Mr. Burtis, up in the stand with his wife and 
the Roxtons, nervously fingered his field-glasses, 
and wondered if the race was ever going to start ! 
Yet he remembered that he had left Captain Jack 
calm and confident, and the lad’s last words had 
been: 

“ Trust me, Mr. Burtis! I’m going to win! ” 

Probably few of the spectators would have 
credited that. King Tom’s reputation of “ rogue ” 
still clung to him, and people had understood that 
Col. Mills’s Tyrant was an exceptional horse. 
For that matter, there were three others running — 
Bonnie Boy, Claribel, and Osmond — and either 
of them might develop unsuspected speed. 

A good many friends of his hoped to have a 
chance to applaud Captain Jack; but May Rox- 
ton and January Jones were about the only ones 
who felt sure of it. 

“ It’s not our horse, it’s Col. Mills’s Tyrant, 
that’s making trouble at the start,” May said 
quietly as she looked down at the field. “ King 
Tom is behaving beautifully.” 

“Ah! They’re off!” Mr. Burtis uttered in a 
hollow voice, a moment later. 


258 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Through the field-glasses he could see that 
Tyrant was in front, well on the rails, and looking 
as if he held the race in hand. But then King 
Tom, who had got* off well, but not in the van, 
came out from the ruck and made way until he 
was only a few lengths behind the leader. 

It almost looked as if Lorimer was holding in 
the horse. Certainly he was going very strongly. 
But at the last turn in the home stretch he went 
wide, and lost so much ground that there seemed 
no chance of his making it up. 

“ Tyrant wins! Tyrant wins! ” A thousand 
throats took up the cry; and Tyrant looked a 
winner, as he strode along unwaveringly, until 
they reached the last furlong. 

But what was this? Forward like a flash came 
King Tom with Jack Lorimer, facing the front 
grimly, fierce with determination, seeing nothing 
before him but the winning-post which was soon 
to decide his fate. 

“ Tyrant wins! ” “ King Tom wins! ” “ Come 
along, Lorimer! ” “ Tyrant wins! ” 

Shouts that he did not hear rang in Jack’s ears. 
He was calling on his mount, now, urging King 
Tom to do his best. Then one cut of his whip — 
the only time he had used it — and the big 
chestnut shot forward like an arrow. 

Jack saw the black and yellow sleeves, Mills’s 
colours, come abreast of him and fall behind; 
but it was after the post was passed. He pulled 


A DEAD HEAT 


259 


up King Tom, vaguely realizing that hundreds 
were cheering, shouting, and calling to him by 
name. 

“ Who’s won? ” they cried. “ Hurrah for 
the gentleman jockey! ” 

Like one in a dream, Jack saw Trainer Ely seize 
King’s bridle and lead the horse from the course. 
He dropped from the saddle, almost exhausted, 
and found that Mr. Burtis was by his side. 

“ I rode a weak race! I waited too long! ” 
Jack panted. “ How was it, Mr. Burtis? ” 

‘ ‘ A dead heat, ’ ’ the owner answered . ‘ ‘ Another 
yard, and you’d have won! 

“ Hear ’em yell out there! ” he added, grimly, 
nodding toward the spectators. “ They want to 
know, I suppose, if we’re going to let it rest this 
way. I’d like — ” 

He stopped short. Col. Mills was standing 
beside his jockey, warning him, blaming him, 
cursing him and appealing to him by turns. 
Benbar listened impatiently. His brute-like face 
had never looked more forbidding. 

George Burtis strode forward to his enemy, and 
the two men exchanged a glance. 

“ Shall we run the race over? ” Burtis asked, 
coldly. 

“To be sure, to be sure! ” was Col. Mills’s 
impatient answer. “You shall not beat me, 
Burtis! ’’ 

And that was how it came about that, the horses 


260 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


and the jockeys well rested, but the tempers of 
the owners probably not improved, King Tom 
and Tyrant met again on Monday. 

It was the first race over again — with the 
difference of a larger turnout. For every one 
who had seen the first was there; and there also 
came a thousand more, dropping their work, 
whatever it might be, on the understanding that 
this final trial was “ for blood.” 

“ Jack,” said Mr. Burtis, anxiously, as they 
met for the last time, “ can you ride to 
win? ” 

“Yes, sir,” was the ready answer. “ There are 
only two of us, now, and I’ll take no chances and 
show no mercy! ” 

‘ ‘ That’s right, boy ! * ’ Trainer Ely cried. ‘ ‘ Come 
right away from the first minute. Make the pace 
a corker. Yours is the stronger horse. You’ve 
got him beat!” 

Up in the stand the two owners watched 
anxiously through their glasses. 

Ah! the horses were off! Col. Mills set his lips 
grimly, to stifle an exclamation of dismay. For 
it was not the black and yellow that led ; it was 
the red and white, the Burtis colours, and King 
Tom was setting such a pace that Tyrant could 
barely hang on. 

Even at the turn Jack Lorimer had the other 
beaten. Riding his race like a veteran he came 
away, and at the distance there was only one 


A DEAD HEAT 


261 


horse in it. Where was the “ rogue,” the unre- 
liable horse that people had heard about? Run- 
ning like a champion, showing not the slightest 
sign of nervousness or temper! With a three 
lengths’ lead, King Tom cantered past the post an 
easy winner. 

Foaming with rage, Benbar came in, and 
dropped from Tyrant. 

“ I claim a foul, see? ” he shouted. “ King 
Tom bumped my horse! ” 

“You can make your objection to the com- 
mittee, if you like,” the clerk of the course said, 
coldly, “ but we all saw the race, you know, 
and I’m afraid you won’t get much sym- 
pathy.” 

“ Nonsense, Benbar, nonsense! ” another voice 
struck in. “ Never was a fairer race run. We’re 
squarely beaten by a better horse.” 

It was Col. Mills who had spoken. Mr. Burtis 
overheard, and came forward impulsively. 

“ I consider that a handsome acknowledgment, 
sir,” Mr. Burtis said. “ I thank you for it, and I 
should consider it an honour to shake hands with 
you, sir! ” 

Col. Mills hesitated, but only for an instant. 
Then he gave his hand, and the two old enemies 
signed a truce. 

“ I congratulate you on your horse, Mr. Burtis — 
and, yes, by jove, I congratulate you on your 
jockey, sir! ” cried Col. Mills. 


262 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Mr. Burtis threw his arm around Lorimer’s 
shoulder. 

“I’m rather proud of Captain Jack, myself! ” 
he said. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


TRAPPED IN A HOLE IN THE HILLS 

That was all very well, and Lorimer valued it. 
But if he had expressed his honest convictions, 
about this time, he would have said that Charles 
Pratt and Will Van Dusen were, above almost any 
others he knew, the fellows of whom friends had 
a right to be proud; because they had turned 
from careless, weak and self-indulgent ways and 
had pluckily clung to the better habits that make 
an athlete — and a man ! 

Pratt, the Roxbridge boy, dated his reforma- 
tion from the camping trip. At first he had not 
been quite sure that he wanted to drop cigarettes 
and other forms of foolishness ; but Horace White 
had given him just the “ jolt ” he needed, and 
association with clean-minded, sound-bodied fel- 
lows had roused his ambition. Then when he went 
home the Roxbridge athletes offered a friendly 
welcome, and Lorimer and the Mill vale boys stood 
by him, and now, in his last year at Roxbridge 
High, he had become a credit to the school and 
was reckoned among its leaders. 

His uncle, Principal Horton, had grown to 
263 


264 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


trust him, as well as the boys did, — to rely on 
him, instead of treating him with savage con- 
tempt. Pratt had proof of that, one Friday 
morning, soon after the term began, when the 
principal quietly summoned him from a class- 
room. Mr. Horton had an open letter in his 
hand and he glanced at it, with a worried expres- 
sion, as he led the way toward his pet and pride, 
the cabinet of geological specimens. 

“ Charles,” he began, abruptly, “ can I induce 
you to take a holiday and go to Marshall for me? ” 

“ Why, yes, sir, of course.” The senior was 
smiling at the thought of being “ induced ” to 
take a holiday. 

“ I have information that Prof. Berger designs 
to visit us on Monday,” went on the principal. 
“ It will hardly be possible to keep him away 
from this cabinet, and of course he will expect to 
find the geology of the region well illustrated. 
Now, we haven’t a specimen of the Marshall 
conglomerates! That which I found here was so 
imperfect that I removed it, designing to replace 
it with a better — but I haven’t procured the new 
specimen, and I can’t obtain it myself because, 
as you know, I have an imperative engagement 
out of town. 

“ I find that Friday is quite an easy day with 
you, easier, perhaps, than it is with any other 
senior who would have the enterprise and sense 
to get what I want. I fear that a member of a 


TRAPPED IN A HOLE 265 


lower class would hardly understand our needs. 
If you feel like starting off at short notice and 
taking the io o’clock train, I will inform your 
mother and — ” 

“ Yes, sir, of course I’ll go,” Pratt broke in. 
“ And why shouldn’t I stop off at Millvale, as I 
come back, and stay overnight with one of the 
fellows? ” 

“ I see no objection,” Mr. Horton answered. 
“ I shall have started for Boston before you 
possibly could return to Roxbridge, so there is 
nothing to be gained, perhaps, by hastening home. 
I’ll tell your mother, then, that you’ll be back — ” 

“ Any time to-morrow! ” Pratt put in laugh- 
ingly, as he took the money his uncle handed him, 
and hurried toward the dressing-room. 

“ Be careful, Charles! ” were Mr. Horton’s last 
words. 

Pratt smiled and waved his hand. There are 
dangerous places in the Marshall Hills; but, if 
he had thought at all of the dangers of his quest, 
he would have put down the chief, if not the only 
one, as the risk of a fall down some unstable ledge 
of rotten rock. 

Naturally, he did not think. Foolhardiness 
was no weakness of his, and he was the last fellow 
to run needless risks, but he had complete con- 
fidence, now, in his strength and sure-footedness. 
And when he left the railroad station at Marshall 
and started on his three-mile walk to the hills, 


266 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


it was with the firm assurance that at 5 o’clock, 
at that same place, he would be taking the train 
for home — via Millvale. 

He was in light marching order, with a canvas 
bag for his specimens, a geologist’s hammer, a 
package of lunch and a bottle of water, and he 
made nothing of the walk before him. Yet the 
hills were by no means the end of it, for the point 
Mr. Horton had indicated, as likely to yield 
the best conglomerates, was still high, if not 
far. 

Once or twice, on the way, Pratt tested a 
promising ledge and broke out lumps and crystals 
which would be worth keeping unless something 
better turned up. He dropped them into his 
bag, intending later to go over all he had gathered 
and choose the best. 

“ Chance to exercise my judgment! ” he mut- 
tered, with a laugh. “ Not even a crow, here, to 
help me pick ’em over! ” 

It was true his surroundings were lonely — one 
might have said, desolate. There was nothing 
about the hills to appeal to lovers of beauty, no 
“ bits ” for photographers, no cosy spots that 
suggested picnics; nor was there any promise of 
usefulness about the place. A sheep would have 
had hard work to find pasturage there. 

A cold east wind whistled across the great, 
bare slopes, but this did not trouble the explorer. 
Onward and still upward he went, until he reached 


TRAPPED IN A HOLE 267 


a turret-shaped peak that Mr. Horton had 
described to him. 

Here was a ridge that ran due north and south, 
and following it in the former direction for two 
or three hundred paces, Charles turned to the 
left. A casual stroke of the hammer showed 
him that here and hereabouts, and probably 
within ten minutes, he could easily fill his bag; 
and, flinging himself down on the softest spot, 
though all were hard enough, he ate his lunch, 
and then, as he lay still to rest, let his eyes roam 
over the dismal landscape. 

On the farther side, down which he was gazing, 
the ridge fell away into a surface somewhat 
different from that up which he had climbed. 
The slope ran steeply down for perhaps an eighth 
of a mile. Beyond was a bog. 

It was a dreary scene — the bare hillside, and 
the swamp of black mud, dotted with thickets 
of coarse reeds, and stagnant pools covered with 
yellow scum. Not a human habitation was in 
sight in that direction. Nothing moved but a few 
cows away off on the skyline. 

Slowly his spirits sank as he gazed. Physically 
he was comfortable enough, for the sun was hot, 
and where he lay he was sheltered from the wind. 
But the solitude and silence were taking hold of 
his imagination, and before he quite realized it 
he found himself recalling unpleasant things and 
foreboding evil. 


268 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Well, he knew the cure for that frame of mind. 
Laughing at himself for a fool, he jumped up and 
went to work — breaking up ten times as much 
rock as he needed, just for the sake of stretching 
his muscles. 

Across the ridge and forward and back he went, 
whistling cheerily as the exertion braced him. 
Nor did he sit down to pick over his specimens, 
but went from one little heap to another, choosing 
everything that had form or colour or composi- 
tion to recommend it, and giving himself a 
generous load. 

That done, the notion came to him that he 
would go down that farther slope and skirt the 
base of the hill. He had plenty of time, the 
exercise would do him good, and it was possible 
he would stumble on something choicer than he 
had yet found. 

But he had not gone very far down -hill when he 
suddenly stopped, thankful that his eyes had 
chanced to seek the ground. Flinging himself 
on his hands and knees, he gazed into a narrow 
crevice in the rock, not more than a foot wide at 
the top and perhaps five feet long. 

The cavity into which he had so nearly stepped 
seemed to be much larger below than above. 
Six feet or so from the mouth, where there was 
a little shelf of stone, the curious hole in the 
ground was as wide as a man’s arms could span. 

But that was not what kept Pratt looking. It 


TRAPPED IN A HOLE 269 


was a crystal that held his gaze and fixed his 
determination. A ray of sunlight striking down 
the narrow shaft rested fairly upon it and made 
it gleam with rainbow colours. 

It was out of reach, no matter how much he 
strained. But it looked easy to lower himself to 
that shelf of rock, six feet below, break off his 
specimen, and, seizing the edges of the crevice, 
draw himself out again. 

Throwing his bag from his shoulder, he studied 
the situation from all sides. He wanted the 
crystal, which, so far as he could see, was quite 
different from anything his search had yielded. 
And why should he not have the crystal? To 
drop to that little ledge directly underneath would 
be as simple as taking a step in the street, and 
to pull himself up by the sides of the cavity was 
no task at all, for the athlete he believed himself 
to be. 

“ Chances are that it won’t, seem attractive, 
after I get it,” he said to himself. “ Here goes 
to get it, though, anyway! ” 

Turning on his face, he lowered himself. There 
was no need to use much caution, for the place 
he meant to stand on was straight below, and he 
couldn’t miss it. 

It proved, however, that his estimate of the 
depth of the shaft had been mistaken. He had 
thought it less than six feet down, if anything, 
but now, as he swung, he found it was still be- 


270 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


neath him; and, finally, he released his hold and 
dropped. 

Crash ! Lightly though he landed on that 
deceptive outcropping of rock, he broke it away. 
In a vain effort to save himself, he leaped upward 
and threw out his hands. But the collapse of 
the ledge had taken him by surprise. He could 
not choose his grip as he had planned. His hands 
slipped off from the bare and rounded edges of 
the cavity, and he fell into the unseen depth 
below. 

When Pratt came to himself, he was lying on 
his back in mud and water. He was almost in 
darkness, and for a minute he could not imagine 
what had happened. All he knew was that he 
was wet, cold, and in pain. 

Standing up to his ankles in the freezing slush, 
he beat his arms across his body until he got back 
a little circulation. Then, cautiously, and moving 
with some difficulty — for he had lamed an ankle 
and had a bad bump on one side of his head — 
he began to investigate his surroundings. 

Up above, a long way up, apparently, he saw 
the crack that admitted daylight. He struggled 
up a few inches nearer, but by that time the light 
gave him little comfort. 

He was at the bottom of a cave or hole, shaped, 
in a rough way, like a great bowl or bottle. The 
mouth was twelve or fifteen feet above his head. 
The sides were rough stone, and the way they 



a 




FORWARD LIKE A FLASH CAME KING TOM 
















































TRAPPED IN A HOLE 271 


sloped inward would make it a hard matter to 
climb out. It had to be done, though, and, 
choosing what seemed to be the best place, at 
the narrower end, Pratt set at work. 

An hour later, lamer than he had been at first, 
with hands bleeding and clothing in tatters, he 
sank, benumbed and helpless, on a heap of rotten 
rock which his useless efforts had shaken down. 
He had discovered by practical proof that escape 
was out of the question. He was hopelessly 
imprisoned in one of the remotest parts of the 
hills. 


CHAPTER XXXIV 


PRATT GETS WHAT HE WENT AFTER 

It was a pretty dismal prospect. Already 
Pratt began to wish he had kept those scraps of 
luncheon he had thrown away, up above. He 
might need them, in the course of the next week ! 

For, as he summed up the situation, even 
admitting that fortune favoured, — admitting that 
he got out at all, — days might elapse before he 
was found. It was hardly likely that anxiety 
would be aroused, and a search for him begun, 
before some time the next day, Saturday; and 
then, no matter how many friends turned out 
to hunt, the chances were against an early dis- 
covery; for the Marshall Hills spread over miles 
of territory, and he was at the bottom of a pretty 
small hole. 

Principal Horton could narrow the field of 
search by pointing out the locality to which he 
had directed his nephew. But Mr. Horton had 
planned to go out of town, and the chances were 
that he would hear nothing about it and would 
be out of reach until Monday. 

Then, again, this hole into which he, Charles, 
272 


WHAT HE WENT AFTER 273 


had fallen was on the “ wrong side ” of the hill, 
and fully an eighth of a mile from the spot where 
he had been expected to do most of his work. 
Assuming that the boys got information on 
Monday morning, how many days would it take 
them to widen their circle of investigation as far 
as that hole? 

“ Wish that dog of Jack Lorimer’s was a blood- 
hound, instead of a bull terrier! ” Pratt muttered. 
“ They’ll need one! ” 

The one certainty that faced him was that he 
must keep up his strength and spirits. When 
anybody came that way — if anybody did come — 
he must hear them and he must be able to make 
them hear him. 

It was damp and cold, as well as dark, down 
there at the bottom of the hole. Perched on his 
heap of rocks, just above the mud and water, 
Pratt took off his shoe and gave his lame ankle 
a vigorous rubbing. Then, solely for occupation, 
he again attacked that narrow end where he had 
made the fruitless effort to escape. He estimated 
that if he kept at work there every day, and ten 
hours a day, with his one tool, his hammer, he 
could dig himself out to the surface in just about 
five months ! 

But as darkness came on he had another un- 
pleasant reminder that escape would have to be 
contrived by somebody pretty quickly — provided 
wet weather chanced to set in. 


274 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


It began to rain. The water poured in little 
rills down the side of the cave, and Charles had 
to shift his position and crawl as far as he could 
under an overhanging rock. Drearily the wind 
howled overhead, the water dripped more thickly, 
and presently he became aware that the puddle 
which covered the bottom of the cave was changing 
to a pool. 

Had it not been for those efforts of his which 
had seemed so fruitless and foolish, he would have 
been worse off than he was. By shifting and 
piling the loose rocks he had broken down, he 
managed to stay above the flood, though to keep 
dry was out of his power. 

Crouching in a state between sleeping and 
waking, he somehow worried through the long 
night — a nightmare, rather, of cold and wet, 
pain and hunger. 

When at last morning dawned, there was a 
foot of water in the hole. And to-day there was 
no sun to cheer him with an occasional slanting 
ray. Though the rain had stopped, the sky was 
covered with driving clouds, which dipped, at 
times, filling the air with fog. 

But the light, such as it was, was welcome. He 
could move, now, without risking a ducking. The 
cessation of rain was another thing to be thankful 
for, for there seemed a prospect that, sooner or 
later, the pool on the floor would drain away. 

An athlete can get warm without a fire, provided 


WHAT HE WENT AFTER 275 


he has room to swing an arm, and exercises that 
had served him before were called on now, with 
equally good results. Then Pratt went at the 
narrow end of his cave again, and the hopeless 
effort, laughable to think of, of pecking a path 
to the upper earth. 

Probably he worked for two or three hours. At 
any rate, he kept it up until he realized he was 
faint; and about the same time there flashed 
across his mind a thought that caused him to 
drop the hammer as if it burned him. 

That was, that the way to economize his 
strength was by keeping still. The more muscular 
exertion, the more hunger and thirst, and — 
since these could not be satisfied — the more 
suffering, the greater weakness, and the speedier 
collapse. He had learned, hours earlier, that he 
could not make his escape unaided. What a 
fool he would be to continue efforts that might 
leave him in such shape that he would miss the 
help of others! 

He rearranged the stones he had broken down, 
so that he could sit on them or recline on them, 
after a fashion, and placed himself where he could 
look up at the narrow mouth of the cave. Once 
in awhile, four times in the hour, perhaps, he would 
fill his lungs and send out a long “ Hello! Help! ” 
But the cry, though repeated in a deafening way 
by the reverberations of the cave, probably was 
scarcely audible at the surface. 


276 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


Between these calls, which, he suspected, were 
strength-wasting, and should be stopped, his 
mind was busy, not so much with his own situa- 
tion, which worrying would not improve, as with 
affairs at home, in Millvale, and elsewhere. 
Would the Millvale fellows be wondering where 
he was? for, as the train passed through, he had 
called a hello and a promise to return, to Horace 
White and Will Amos, who chanced to be at the 
depot. Probably, though, when he failed to 
reappear, they would take it that he had changed 
his mind and gone straight home, and they would 
think no more about it. 

There was a moment, about io o’clock, when 
he fancied that, faint and far away, he heard 
voices, and he yelled more than once in answer. 
But nothing came of it, and after awhile he 
decided that it was only birds or beasts that he 
heard, and he would better save his breath. 

Then he went back in thought to the camp at 
Four Comers, and recalled the good time he had, 
and the changes, all for the better, that had come 
about since then. He thought of Will Van Dusen. 
He wondered what Captain Jack was doing 
to-day. And then, when it had grown to seem that 
the afternoon was full six weeks long — though 
as a matter of fact, it was only about 1 1 o’clock — • 
he went to sleep. 

He woke with a start that almost upset the 
unsteady seat of stones on which he had perched 


WHAT HE WENT AFTER 277 


himself. He had dreamed that Ben Butler, 
Jack Lorimer’s bull terrier, was chasing Will 
Van Dusen through Mill vale, and barking furiously 
as he ran. 

But no, that was no dream, or not all a dream. 
He did hear a dog’s bark, and he stood up, to 
bring his head nearer the surface, and put all the 
power of his lungs into a reply: 

“ Here, Ben! ” he cried. “ Here, Ben! Seek, 
Ben, good dog! ” 

Nearer came the sound. Now he heard human 
voices ; and now, as he looked up at the little patch 
of daylight, it was partially obscured, all at once, 
and he saw the dog’s head, the eyes gleaming with 
eagerness, — for the bull terrier was as fond of 
Pratt as of almost anybody but Captain Jack 
himself. 

“ Good dog, Ben ! ” he called. “Fetch ’em, boy ! ” 

Probably the bull terrier knew it was all right 
now. A few short barks were all he would waste 
on those who were behind him. He wanted to 
get to his friend, and he whined and scratched 
and tore around like a mad thing to find a way. 

He found it, too, though not exactly that which 
he sought. One of those bare and slippery sur- 
faces it was, and his eagerness tempted him too 
far and made him lose his hold. Thirty pounds 
of bone and muscle, he came hurtling down 
against Pratt’s chest, knocking the boy head over 
heels. 


278 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ Hello, Charles! You down there? ” It was 
Lorimer’s voice. 

Pratt sat up, rubbing the back of his head with 
one hand and patting the dog with the other. 

“I’m here,” he answered. 

“ Any bones broken? ” 

“ Not unless Ben Butler smashed a few of my 
ribs just now! Got a rope? ” 

“ Sure! ” Lorimer yelled and waved his hand, 
and almost at once a dozen fellows seemed to 
join him. Next moment a rope came down. 

“ Give me plenty of slack,” Pratt called. “Pm 
going to rig a sling in the middle of the rope for 
Ben, and keep my end to guy him clear of the 
rocks. Careful with him, please! Pull up! ” 

Slowly the bull terrier rose to the surface, and 
the rope was released from him and sent down 
again. 

“ Come over the other side, will you, boys? ” 
Pratt called, as he grasped it. “ Yes, that's 
right. How many of you are there? Enough so 
you can hold me for a minute, half-way up? ” 

“ Easily,” Lorimer answered. 

“ Sure we can stand it as long as you can! ” 
Terry McGrady chuckled. “ ’Tis a last fond look 
he’s planning for, boys, so he’ll not forget it! ” 

It was not exactly that. But Pratt laughed 
and took his time. And it was fully twenty 
minutes later, when the hand-shaking was over 
and the crowd was well started on the retreat 


WHAT HE WENT AFTER 279 

from the desolate cliff, that Lorimer thought to 
ask: 

“ See here, Charlie, what were you doing when 
we were holding you in mid-air? Carving your 
name in the rock? ” 

Pratt smiled and drew from his pocket a beauti- 
ful specimen of conglomerate. 

“ I was digging this out,” he said. “ It was 
trying for this that got me into the cave, and I 
didn’t see how I could go off and leave it.” 

With the same thought in their minds, Jack 
and Terry, who were walking beside him, slapped 
him on the back in hearty admiration. Pratt 
had proved himself! In a time of peril he had 
kept his nerve. Not only that, but in the glad 
excitement of the rescue, when ninety out of a 
hundred would have lost their heads, he had 
steadfastly clung to his purpose. That showing 
of character warranted and repaid all that the 
Millvale boys had done for him. Henceforth he 
would be “ one of the crowd! ” 


CHAPTER XXXV 


THE PROVING OF WILL VAN DUSEN 

That Pratt should be so soon discovered and 
released seemed almost marvellous ; yet the 
mystery was easily explained. Instead of leaving 
town, as he had intended, Principal Horton had 
been kept at home by illness. On Saturday 
morning he had telephoned the Millvale gym, 
to ask his nephew to do an errand. Thus the 
Millvale boys learned where Charles had gone, 
and that he had not returned, and within an hour 
a score of them — and Ben Butler, the dog — 
set out for the Marshall Hills. 

So now Pratt had served his apprenticeship, as 
it were, and had been admitted to full fellowship 
with the athletes. As for the other apprentice, 
young Will Van Dusen, the time that should try 
his nerve and courage was close at hand. 

Two or three weeks earlier, Mr. Van Dusen had 
received an anonymous letter threatening that, 
unless he left a large sum of money in a certain 
place, at a certain time, Will would be “ made 
away with.” Threats of such a kind are not 
unfamiliar to wealthy men. Mr. Van Dusen had 
280 


PROVING OF VAN DUSEN 281 


had them before. But this time, instead of 
informing the police as usual, he left the case in 
Lorimer’s hands. 

It seemed at first thought a crazy action. But 
Mrs. Van Dusen was in feeble health; and, if the 
police were called in, there would be a newspaper 
sensation, or a series of them, and the life of the 
wife and mother would be endangered by shock 
and strain. He did not wish that she should 
even hear of the threats. He felt sure he could 
trust the athletes to guard his boy. So for a time 
Lou Mains became one of the family, ostensibly 
that Will might have the benefit of some special 
coaching; the boy was never left alone; and at 
night the fellows took turns to keep an eye on 
the grounds, while the patrolmen on that beat, 
Carl Halvorsen and Barney Oldfield — faithful 
friends of Captain Jack — were always on the 
alert. 

There was only one member of the household 
of whom Lorimer and Mains felt suspicious. That 
was a young man named Pond, who combined 
the duties of tutor to Will and secretary to Mr. 
Van Dusen. To “ match him,” so to speak, a 
brother of Halvorsen, the Swedish officer, was 
engaged as a sort of outside man, who was free 
to go anywhere about the place. So the day 
came — and almost passed — on which the threat 
against Will was booked to take effect ; and when 
Lorimer started for Van Dusen’s, in the early 


282 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


evening, it seemed that their precautions had 
been successful, and nothing had happened. 

But, with a sense of trouble impending, he saw 
that fire engines were just driving away from the 
house. He hurried up the walk. Lou Mains, 
looking as much upset as it was possible for him 
to look, met him at the door and drew him one 
side. 

‘‘Bilked!” Lou muttered. “They’ve played 
it on us. Will’s gone! ” 

“ How’s that? ” 

“ Just going out to dinner,” Lou explained. 
“ Flash of flame in the hall, big cloud of smoke 
blew in, and somebody yelled ‘ Fire! ’ Ran 
upstairs and telephoned an alarm. Then went 
downstairs — hadn’t been away more than two 
minutes — but the boy was missing, and so was 
Pond. Must have gone by the back way. Easy. 
Everybody in the house chased out to the front 
hall — where the fake fire was.” 

“ Fake fire? ” Lorimer repeated. 

“ That’s what,” nodded Mains. “ Nothing 
burned but some kind of chemical mess that went 
out in a minute or two. No damage.” 

“ Where’s Van Dusen? ” 

“ Wired that he’d be detained. Won’t be home 
before 8 o’clock. Boy’s mother doesn’t suspect 
anything. She hasn’t been told about the scheme 
against Will, you know. Jollied her along. 
Told her Will and Pond had started to get 


PROVING OF VAN DUSEN 283 


more engines.” Mains ended with a rueful 
smile. “ Kick me! ” he said. 

“ Nonsense, man! ” Captain Jack replied. “ It 
was a clever scheme they worked, and probably 
it would have fooled anybody, just as it did you. 
All there is for us to do now is to find ’em. You 
run around those two sides of the house and put 
our fellows on the track, and I’ll take these two 
sides.” 

The stir of excitement in the house was not 
yet over, and nobody noticed Lorimer as, aided 
by the darkness, he slipped along toward the 
rear and then struck across the wide lawn bounded 
on that side by Mercator Street. Near the hedge 
he knew there was a narrow strip of ungrassed 
ground, and, by following that, he believed he 
might find footprints that would indicate the 
road Pond had taken. 

But the clew came sooner and in an unexpected 
way, for, before he had reached the nearer side 
of the hedge, Lorimer almost fell over a prostrate 
figure that moaned and struggled feebly. 

“ Who are you? ” Captain Jack demanded. 

“ On de yob,” was the gasping reply. “ Carl 
Halvorsen’s brudder.” 

“ What is the matter with you? ” 

“ Ay stop de man,” Halvorsen answered. “ He 
hit me mit something. You go quick — Acorn 
Street — half-way — empty house, big tree in 
front. Ay found him yust dis afternoon.” 


284 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


“ But what am I going to do with you? ” 

“ Nefer you mind me. Lay here awhile — 
Ay be all right. You go quick! ” 

“ We won’t forget you, Halvorsen! ” And 
with that Captain Jack dashed away. 

He knew Acorn Street. He had noticed that 
tumbledown empty house with the tree in front. 
It was not ten minutes’ walk from the place where 
he stood. Lorimer ran. The distance was soon 
covered, and he paused a minute to look over the 
ground. 

A desolate and forbidding place it was. It 
might have been unoccupied and slowly falling 
to pieces for a thousand years, from all appear- 
ances. Yet there was a light in one of the upper 
windows, and as Jack surveyed it he saw a figure 
pass before the pane. 

A gigantic elm grew quite close to the house 
on that side. Climbing it easily enough, Lorimer 
crept out on a big limb until he was within a yard 
of the window. The window was open a few 
inches, and he took pains to go slowly and care- 
fully, that he might not be heard. He had no 
fear of being seen, for the night was black as ink. 

He himself could both see and hear. And his 
first glance showed him three persons — Pond, 
an older and larger man with a heavy and brutal 
face, and Will Van Dusen, tightly bound to a 
chair. 

Pond was speaking, as Captain Jack approached 


u 


HIS FIRST GLANCE SHOWED HIM THREE PERSONS/’ 



PROVING OF VAN DUSEN 285 


the window. There was a satanic smile on his 
face and his words fell with callous brutality. 

“You see, my young friend,” he said, “ we 
have our way, in spite of the watchful cleverness 
of your hundred guardians. Unfortunately for 
you and your parents, we are smarter than the 
Millvale Athletic Club ! 

“ Nothing remains, now,” the secretary went 
on, “ but to interest you and please ourselves 
by telling you what we propose to do with you — 
and then doing it. I shall have to begin by going 
into ancient history a little. My friend and I are 
not fond of your father. He put my friend in 
jail. He broke up a profitable business with 
which I was associated, and — ” 

“ What was your business? Forgery or coun- 
terfeiting? ” the boy asked, calmly. 

Pond snarled an oath at him. 

“We could have made use of some of your 
father’s money, though, even if he had paid what 
we asked, we should have struck at him again,” 
the secretary added. “ Since he undertook to 
save it, at our expense, we shall have the keener 
satisfaction of squaring accounts at one blow. 
We propose — ” 

“ Say, why not give the kid one more chance? ” 
the other villain broke in. 

Pond pretended to think it over. 

“ Very well,” he said at length. “I’m willing 
to be merciful — provided I’m paid for it. We 


286 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


have you. No one can rescue you. We can reach 
your father, however, with perfect safety to our- 
selves, and if you value your life enough to write 
a note requesting him to pay the ransom to our 
messenger, we’ll release you.” 

Pale but firm, Will faced them. 

“ I’ll not ask father to have any dealings with 
scoundrels like you! ” he answered. 

Pond stood still and cast an evil grin at him. 

“ Brave lad! Brave lad! ” the secretary cried. 
“ I wonder if you’ll be so dauntless when you’re 
tied in the middle of Mercator Street and hear 
your father’s auto rushing down on you at forty 
miles an hour! ” 

Involuntarily Will gasped. 

“ That’s the idea, precisely,” Pond went on. 
“We detained your father in town by a telegram 
which we took the liberty to sign by the name of 
your friend Jack Lorimer. We have already 
summoned him back, telling him to approach the 
house by way of Mercator Street and at his best 
speed, for reasons to be explained to him later. 

“ Mercator Street has always been a quiet, 
unfrequented thoroughfare,” Pond added, 
smilingly. “We made it less popular still by 
displaying a ghost there on several occasions. 
We shall have notice of the time your father leaves 
the train and enters his auto, and at that time 
we shall proceed to tie you in the middle of the 
street — at the darkest point, just beyond the 


PROVING OF VAN DUSEN 287 


curve. The occupants of the car will not see you 
until it is too late to stop. 

“ It will be some considerable time before you’ll 
stop,” Pond chuckled. “ I wouldn’t be surprised 
if the auto flung you over the roof of your own 
house — a dramatic and picturesque arrival which 
would impress all your family and friends! ” 

Will Van Dusen still kept his nerve and courage. 

‘‘I’m not afraid of you! ” he retorted. “You 
don’t dare to do any such horrible thing as you 
say! You know my father would have you both 
hanged to pay for it! ” 

“ He’d have to catch us first, my son! And as 
for daring ” — Pond glanced at his watch — 
“Time’s up! We’ll begin it now! ” 

As he spoke the secretary took a step forward. 
Was he going to torture the helpless lad before 
him? 

In his excitement Jack Lorimer lost his balance. 
For a horrible second he felt himself falling — 
and the ground was thirty feet below. Then with 
one supreme effort he sprang forward and crashed 
through the window into the room. 

He heard Will Van Dusen shout his name. 
Either Pond or his companion uttered a terrible 
oath. Then darkness swept over Lorimer ’s 
senses. 


0 


CHAPTER XXXVI 


IN THE TRACK OF VAN DUSEN’S CAR 

Lorimer was alone, bound, and in the dark. 
That was the first thing he realized — that and 
the pain in his head — as he struggled back to 
consciousness. 

Evidently the ruffians thought they had killed 
him with a blow. Either that, or they had believed 
he did not know their plan and could not recover 
in time to pursue them ; for, though they had tied 
him to a table, the bonds were not hard to loosen, 
and in a very few moments he was free. 

Staggering toward the door, he found it locked, 
and it did not yield to his fiercest assault. But 
there was the tree by which he had entered. Ill 
as he felt, he must risk that leap. Climbing to 
the sill, he launched himself into the gulf. 

He caught the bough, reached the trunk, and 
after a dozen hazards finally found himself in the 
street. He hardly knew yet what had happened. 
A confused idea that somebody was in danger 
and he must help — that was all he knew. 

But suddenly consciousness and memory came 
back with a flash, and he set off along the street 
288 


VAN DUSEN’S CAR 


289 


at the greatest pace to which he could force his 
trembling limbs. 

“It’s Will!” he gasped. “Mercator Street! 
I must get there quick! ” 

He spoke truly. The boy was sorely in need of 
help. 

After Lorimer had been silenced, Pond and his 
villainous companion made one more attempt to 
induce Will to beg for mercy and ransom. But 
he had no doubt the two would kill him or carry 
him away, whatever they agreed to do, and he 
would not even give them the satisfaction of an 
answer. 

Enraged at his contempt, at length, they 
gagged him, tied his wrists behind his back, and 
hurried him away to Mercator Street. Passing 
a stout rope twice around his body, they secured 
the ends to fence-posts on either side of the road. 
It was as if he had been lashed to a pillar in the 
middle of the narrow street. He was helpless, and 
at the mercy of any vehicle. The cleverest driver 
could hardly have avoided him. 

But this was not a street that vehicles traversed, 
especially after dark. Probably none would come, 
except that one which had been summoned. The 
bitterest thought, the one that added the final 
touch to his sense of dread and horror, was that 
his father’s own auto would deal the death blow. 

If he had only been able to call for help, he 
thought! Yet, had he stopped to think, he would 


290 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


have realized that would do him no good, for there 
was no one to hear. 

Straining his eyes through the darkness, he 
awaited the end with what courage he could 
command. More than once he was certain he 
heard the note of an auto horn or the pulsation 
of the engine. Each time he would strain and 
struggle to free himself, and after each desperate 
attempt he felt with deeper certainty that the 
effort was useless. The villains who secured him 
had done their work well. 

Then suddenly, at last, he heard the deep roar 
of an auto that was travelling at high speed. This 
time he knew he could not be mistaken. 

The sound grew louder. Away off in the 
distance, around the curve, he could see three 
points of light. They were the reflections of the 
lamps of Mr. Van Dusen’s car. Bewildered and 
terrified by the conflicting telegrams that seemed 
to come from Captain Jack, the owner had ordered 
his chauffeur to drive at express-train speed. 

One last fruitless effort to break free, and then, 
with a groan, the boy resigned himself to his fate. 

But at that awful moment, while his starting 
eyes were fixed on those oncoming lights, Captain 
Jack was bounding toward him. Lorimer’s 
brain had cleared in an instant as he saw that 
figure in the roadway. Gripping his pocket- 
knife, held open in his hand, he nerved himself 
for a great effort. 


VAN DUSEN’S CAR 


291 


Never afterward, however, could any of the 
sharers in that thrilling scene form a clear idea of 
what did really happen. Lorimer must have 
reached the boy at the very instant when the 
glare from the lamps fell full upon his face. One, 
two mad slashes at the rope — then it parted, 
and Will Van Dusen and his rescuer threw them- 
selves backward out of the way as the monster 
rolled by in irrepressible power. 

But the boys had been seen. The car was 
brought up in masterly style, and it was Mr. 
Van Dusen himself who helped them, unhurt, out 
of the gutter into which they had stumbled. 

A few words told the story. They had to 
suffice, for Captain Jack and Will Van Dusen, still 
dazed from the strain of their terrible adventure, 
were in no condition to talk. 

The millionaire’s lips set grimly, as he listened, 
in a thin, straight line. 

“ Drive to police headquarters,” he told the 
chauffeur. Arrived there, his interview with 
the chief was very short and businesslike. 

“ I authorize you to offer a reward of five 
thousand dollars for the capture of those villains,” 
he said. “ Remember, I want both! They were 
anxious that I should spend the five thousand, 
and I give you my word I’m more than willing.” 

To end this part of the story briefly, it may be 
said that Mr. Van Dusen had the chance. The 
big reward aroused all the police of the East, as 


292 JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS 


well as a good many amateur detectives, and 
within forty-eight hours Pond and his partner 
had been laid by the heels. 

But this desirable result was still in the future, 
as the father, his son, and Captain Jack rode back 
to the Van Dusen place ; and in the present there 
were other thoughts at the front of the millionaire’s 
mind. 

“ How did the boy behave? ” he asked, all at 
once, of Lorimer, and nodding at Will. 

“ Splendidly! ” was Captain Jack’s enthusiastic 
answer. “ I could see and hear him, and to my 
certain knowledge he didn’t falter or tremble 
or give way an inch. I was proud of him, and 
so would you have been, sir! ” 

“ I couldn’t have acted like that, once,” Will 
said, thoughtfully, before his father could speak. 
“ I might have been just as brave, inside, you 
know, but I’d have been shaky outside. You 
remember, father, I used to jump when a door 
slammed — but now I’m not the least bit jumpy ! ” 

“ Your nerves are steadier, and under control,” 
Captain Jack commented, with a smile. The 
millionaire nodded. 

“ He’s a different boy, thanks to you,” Mr. Van 
Dusen said. “ I don’t mind telling you, Lorimer, 
that I felt at the start, and for quite awhile, 
that this physical training of yours was in the 
nature of an experiment. We could go on through 
the summer, I thought, — while you and the 


VAN DUSEN’S CAR 


293 


boy here were having holidays, — and at the 
worst we could say that the training was just part 
of the summer play. But I’ve been changing 
my mind about it, as the boy himself has changed 
for the better. It’s more than fun, — it’s sound 
commonsense, this work of yours! I want Will 
to keep it up. I rely on you to continue guiding 
him.” 

He was silent a moment, as the auto stopped 
at the head of the drive. Then he turned to his 
companions with a laugh. 

“We’ll put it, then, that the holidays — the 
experiments — are over, and you and the boy 
will settle down to business,” he said. “ Keep 
on as you’ve been going, Lorimer, only take it 
for granted that you’re not to stop until you’ve 
made Will just such another as yourself! ” 

Captain Jack smiled also, though he shook his 
head. 

“ That’s not a very high ideal, I’m afraid, sir,” 
he replied. “ More like a holiday task, after all. 
I’m only — ” 

“ The kind of lad that every American father 
wishes his son to be! ” Mr. Van Dusen inter- 
rupted. “ Don’t contradict me, Lorimer! I 
know! ” 


THE END. 


► » 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS 

(Trade Mark) 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

Each, i vol. large, i2mo, cloth decorative, per vol. . $1.50 

The Little Colonel Stories. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated. 

Being three “ Little Colonel ” stories in the Cosy Corner 
Series, “ The Little Colonel,” “ Two Little Knights of Ken- 
tucky,” and “ The Giant Scissors,” put into a single volume. 

The Little Colonel’s House Party. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by Louis Meynell. 

The Little Colonel’s Holidays. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. 

The Little Colonel’s Hero. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel at Boarding School. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel in Arizona. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel’s Christmas Vaca- 

(Trade Mark) 

tion. 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

The Little Colonel, Maid of Honour. 

(Trade Mark) 

Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

Since the time of “ Little Women,” no juvenile heroine 
has been better beloved of her child readers than Mrs. 
Johnston's “ Little Colonel.” 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


The Little Colonel. 

(Trade Mark) 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky. 
The Giant Scissors. 

Big Brother. 

Special Holiday Editions 

Each one volume, cloth decorative, small quarto, $1.25. 
New plates, handsomely illustrated, with eight full- 
page drawings in color. 

“ The books are as satisfactory to the small girls, who find 
them adorable, as for the mothers and librarians, who delight 
in their influence.” — Christian Register. 

These four volumes, boxed as a four- volume set . $5.00 

In the Desert of Waiting : The Legend 

of Camelback Mountain. 

The Three Weavers s a Fairy tale for 
Fathers and Mothers as Well as for Their 
Daughters. 

Keeping Tryst. 

The Legend of the Bleeding Heart. 

Each one volume, tall i6mo, cloth decorative . $0.50 

Paper boards 35 

There has been a constant demand for publication 
in separate form of these four stories, which were orig- 
inally included in four of the “ Little Colonel ” books. 

Joel : A Boy of Galilee. By Annie Fel- 
lows Johnston. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. 

New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little Colonel 
Books, 1 vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . $1.50 

A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the 
author’s best-known books. 

A— 12 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


Asa Holmes ; or, at the cross-roads, a 

sketch of Country Life and Country Humor. By 
Annie Fellows Johnston. With a frontispiece by 
Ernest Fosbery. 

Large 1 6mo, cloth, gilt top . . . $1.00 

“ * Asa Holmes ; or, At the Cross-Roads’ is the most de- 
lightful, most sympathetic and wholesome book that has been 
published in a long while.” — Boston Times. 

The Rival Campers; or, the adventures 
of Henry Burns. By Ruel Perley Smith. 
Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

Here is a book which will grip and enthuse every boy reader. 
It is the story of a party of typical American lads, coura- 
geous, alert, and athletic, who spend a summer camping on an 
island off the Maine coast. 

“The best boys’ book since ‘ Tom Sawyer.’” — San Fran- 
cisco Examiner. 

The Rival Campers Afloat ; or, The 

Prize Yacht Viking. By Ruel Perley Smith. 
Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

This book is a continuation of the adventures of “ The 
Rival Campers ” on their prize yacht Viking. An accidental 
collision results in a series of exciting adventures, culminat- 
ing in a mysterious chase, the loss of their prize yacht, and 
its recapture by means of their old yacht, Surprise. 

The Rival Campers Ashore. By ruel 

Perley Smith, author of “ The Rival Campers,” 
« The Rival Campers Afloat,” etc. 

Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

“ The Rival Campers Ashore ” deals with the adventures 
of the campers and their friends in and around the town of 
Benton. Mr. Smith introduces a new character, — a girl, — 
who shows them the way to an old mill, around which the 
mystery of the story revolves. The girl is an admirable ac- 
quisition, proving as daring and resourceful as the campers 
themselves. 

A — 13 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


The Young Section- Hand ; or, the ad- 
ventures of Allan West. By Burton E. Ste- 
venson, author of “ The Marathon Mystery,” etc. 
Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by L. J. 

Bridgman $i* 5 ° 

Mr. Stevenson’s hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given 
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The Young Train Dispatcher. By bur- 

ton E. Stevenson, author of “ The Young Section- 
hand,” etc. 

Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

The young hero has many chances to prove his manliness 
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discharge of his duty. 

Captain Jack Lorimer. By winn Stan- 

DISH. 

Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by A. B. 

Shute $ 1. 50 

Jack is a fine example of the all-around American high- 
school boy. He has the sturdy qualities boys admire, and 
his fondness for clean, honest sport of all kinds will strike a 
chord of sympathy among athletic youths. 

Jack Lorimer’s Champions; or, sports 

on Land and Lake. By Winn Standish, author of 
“ Captain Jack Lorimer,” etc. 

Square i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50 
All boys and girls who take an interest in school athletics 
will wish to read of the exploits of the Millvale High School 
students, under the leadership of Captain Jack Lorimer. 

Captain Jack’s Champions play quite as good ball as do 
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opponents to good hard work in other summer sports. 

Jack Lorimer and his friends stand out as the finest ex- 
amples of all-round American high school boys and girls. 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


Beautiful Joe’s Paradise ; or, the island 

of Brotherly Love. A sequel to “ Beautiful Joe.” 
By Marshall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe.” 
One vol., library 1 2mo, cloth, illustrated . $1.50 

“ This book revives the spirit of ‘Beautiful Joe ’ capitally. 
It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as unusual 
as anything in the animal book line that has seen the light. It 
is a book for juveniles — old and young.” — Philadelphia Item. 

’Tilda Jatie. By Marshall Saunders. 

One vol., i2mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 

“ It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books 
that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down 
until I had finished it — honest 1 And I am sure that every 
one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to 
make the acquaintance of the delicious waif. 

“ I cannot think of any better book for children than this. 
I commend it unreservedly.” — Cyrus Townsend Brady. 

The Story of the Graveleys. By mar- 
shall Saunders, author of “Beautiful Joe’s Para- 
dise,” “ ’Tilda Jane,” etc. 

Library i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. 
Barry $1.50 

Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, 
of a delightful New England family, of whose devotion and 
sturdiness it will do the reader good to hear. 

Born to the Blue. By Florence Kimball 
Russel. 

1 2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.25 

The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathe* on 
every page of this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a 
captain of U. S. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the 
days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation. 

A — 15 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


In West Point Gray. By Florence Kim- 
ball Russel. 

i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.25 

West Point forms the background for the second volume 
in this series, and gives us the adventures of Jack as a cadet. 
'Here the training of his childhood days in the frontier army 
post stands him in good stead ; and he quickly becomes the 
central figure of the West Point life. 

The Sandman ; His Farm Stories. 

By William J. Hopkins. With fifty illustrations by 
Ada Clendenin Williamson. 

Large i2mo, decorative cover . . . $1.50 

“ An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of very 
small children. It should be one of the most popular of the 
year’s books for reading to small children.” — Buffalo Ex- 
press. 

The Sandman : More Farm Stories. 

By William J. Hopkins. 

Large i2mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 

Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories met with such 
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issued for scores of eager children. Life on the farm, and 
out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner. 

The Sandman: His Ship Stories. 

By William J. Hopkins, author of “ The Sandman : 
His Farm Stories,” etc. 

Large i2mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 

“ Mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who put the 
little ones to bed, and rack their brains for stories, will find 
this book a treasure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

“ Children call for these stories over and over again.” — 
Chicago Evening Post. 

A — 16 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


Pussy =Cat Town. By Marion Ames Tag- 
gart. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and deco- 
rated in colors ...... $1.00 

“ Pussy-Cat Town ” is a most unusual delightful cat story. 
Ban-Ban, a pure Maltese who belonged to Rob, Kiku-san, 
Lois’s beautiful snow-white pet, and their neighbors Bedelia 
the tortoise-shell, Madame Laura the widow, Wutz Butz the 
warrior, and wise old Tommy Trad dies, were really and truly 
cats. 

The Roses of Saint Elizabeth. By Jane 

Scott Woodruff, author of “ The Little Christmas 
Shoe ” 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and deco- 
rated in colors by Adelaide Everhart . #1.00 

This is a charming little story of a child whose father was 
caretaker of the great castle of the Wartburg, where Saint 
Elizabeth once had her home. 

Gabriel and the Hour Book. ByEvA- 

leen Stein. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and deco- 
rated in colors by Adelaide Everhart . $1.00 

Gabriel was a loving, patient, little French lad, who assisted 
the monks in the long ago days, when all the books were 
written and illuminated by hand, in the monasteries. 

The Enchanted Automobile. Trans- 
lated from the French by Mary J. S afford. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and deco- 
rated in colors by Edna M. Sawyer . . $1.00 

The enchanted automobile was sent by the fairy god- 
mother of a lazy, discontented little prince and princess to 
take them to fairyland, where they might visit their story- 
book favorites. 

A — 17 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


The Red Feathers. By Theodore Roberts, 

author of “ Brothers of Peril,” etc. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 

“ The Red Feathers” tells of the remarkable adventures of 
an Indian boy who lived in the Stone Age, many years ago, 
when the world was young, and when fairies and magicians 
did wonderful things for their friends and enemies. 

The Wreck of the Ocean Queen. By 

James Otis, author of “ Larry Hudson’s Ambition,” 

etc. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 

This story takes its readers on a sea voyage around the 
world ; gives them a trip on a treasure ship ; an exciting ex- 
perience in a terrific gale; and finally a shipwreck, with a 
mutineering crew determined to take the treasure to compli- 
cate matters. 

But only the mutineers will come to serious harm, and 
after the reader has known the thrilling excitement of lack of 
food and water, of attacks by night and day, and of a hand-to- 
hand fight, he is rescued and brought safely home again, — 
to realize that it’s only a story, but a stirring and realistic 
one. 

Little White Indians. By Fannie E. 

Ostrander. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated . . . #1.25 

The “ Little White Indians ” were two families of children 
who “ played Indian ” all one long summer vacation. They 
built wigwams and made camps ; they went hunting and 
fought fierce battles on the war-trail. 

A bright, interesting story which will appeal strongly to 
the “ make-believe ” instinct in children, and will give them a 
healthy, active interest in “ the simple life.” 

A — L8 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


PHYLLIS' FIELD FRIENDS SERIES 

By LENORE E. MULETS 
Six vols., cloth decorative, illustrated by Sophie Schneider. 
Sold separately, or as a set. 

Per volume . $ 1.00 

Per set ........ 6.00 

Insect Stories. 

Stories of Little Animals. 

Flower Stories. 

Bird Stories. 

Tree Stories. 

Stories of Little Fishes, 

In this series of six little Nature books, it is the author’s 
intention so to present to the child reader the facts about 
each particular flower, insect, bird, or animal, in story form, 
as to make delightful reading. Classical legends, myths, 
poems, and songs are so introduced as to correlate fully 
with these lessons, to which the excellent illustrations are 
no little help. 

THE WOODRANGER TALES 

By G. WALDO BROWNE 

The Woodranger. 

The Young Gunbearer. 

The Hero of the Hills. 

With Rogers* Rangers. 

Each i vol., large 1 2mo, cloth, decorative cover, illustrated, 

per volume $125 

Four vols., boxed, per set 5.00 

“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder Tales” 
of J. Fenimore Cooper, combine historical information 
relating to early pioneer days in America with interesting 
adventures in the backwoods. Although the same char- 
acters are continued throughout the series, each book is 
complete in itself, and, while based strictly on historical 
facts, is an interesting and exciting tale of adventure. 

A — 1# 


THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES 


The most delightful and interesting accounts possible 
of child life in other lands, filled with quaint sayings, 
doings, and adventures. 

Each one vol., 1 2mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six or more 
full-page illustrations in color. 

Price per volume $0.60 

By MARY HAZELTON WADE (unless otherwise 

indicated ) 


Our Little African Cousin 

Our Little Alaskan Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon - Roulet 

Our Little Arabian Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Armenian Cousin 
Our Little Brown Cousin 

Our Little Canadian Cousin 

By Elizabeth R. Macdonald 

Our Little Chinese Cousin 

By Isaac Taylor Headland 

Our Little Cuban Cousin 

Our Little Dutch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little English Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Eskimo Cousin 

Our Little French Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little German Cousin 
Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 

Our Little Hindu Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Indian Cousin 
A — 1 


Our Little Irish Cousin 
Our Little Italian Cousin 
Our Little Japanese Cousin 
Our Little Jewish Cousin 

Our Little Korean Cousin 

By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Mexican Cousin 

By Edward C. Butler 

Our Little Norwegian Cousin 

Our Little Panama Cousin 

By H. Lee M. Pike 

Our Little Philippine Cousin 
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
Our Little Russian Cousin 

Our Little Scotch Cousin 

By Blanche McManus 

Our Little Siamese Cousin 

Our Little Spanish Cousin 

By Mary F. Nixon -Roulet 

Our Little Swedish Cousin 

By Claire M. Coburn 

Our Little Swiss Cousin 
Our Little Turkish Cousin 


COSY CORNER SERES 

It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall 
contain only the very highest and purest literature, — 
stories that shall not only appeal to the children them- 
selves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with 
them in their joys and sorrows. 

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known 
artists, and each volume has a separate attractive cover 
design. 

Each i vol., i6mo, cloth $o.$< 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine 
is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on 
account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school South- 
ern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family are famous 
in the region. 

The Giant Scissors. 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in 
France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, and 
in later volumes shares with her the delightful experiences 
of the “ House Party ” and the “ Holidays.” 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky. 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is not, 
however, the central figure of the story, that place being 
taken by the “ two little knights.” 

Mildred’s Inheritance. 

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who 
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic 
American family who are attracted by her beautiful speak- 
ing voice. By means of this one gift she is enabled to 
help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the use of her 
eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, happy one. 

A — 3 


c. c. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON ( Continued ) 

Cicely and Other Stories for Girls. 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles will 
be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for young 
people. 

Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories. 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal 
to all boys and most girls. 

Big Brother. 

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Steven, 
himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of 
the simple tale. 

Ole Mammy’s Torment. 

“ Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “ a classic 
of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mishaps of a 
small negro lad, and tells how he was led by love and kind- 
ness to a knowledge of the right. 

The Story of Dago. 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a 
pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells 
his own story, and the account of his haps and mishaps is 
both interesting and amusing. 

The Quilt That Jack Built. 

A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and how 
it changed the course of his life many years after it was 
accomplished. 

Flip’s Islands of Providence. 

A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and hie 
final triumph, well worth the reading. 

A-4 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By EDITH ROBINSON 

A Little Puritan’s First Christmas. 

A Story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how 
Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child 
of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A Little Daughter of Liberty. 

The author introduces this story as follows : 

“ One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul 
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
ride, — the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less 
historic in its action or memorable in its consequences.” 

A Loyal Little Maid. 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, 
renders important services to George Washington. 

A Little Puritan Rebel. 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the 
time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of 
Massachusetts. 

A Little Puritan Pioneer. 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settle- 
ment at Charlestown. 

A Little Puritan Bound Girl. 

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 

A Little Puritan Cavalier. 

The story of a “ Little Puritan Cavalier ” who tried 
with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and 
ideals of the dead Crusaders. 

A Puritan Knight Errant. 

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who 
endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knights 
of olden days. 

A— 5 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By MISS MULOCK 

The Little Lame Prince. 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many adven. 
tures by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother. 

Adventures of a Brownie. 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook and 
gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the children 
who love and trust him. 

'.lis Little Mother. 

Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant 
source of delight to them, and “ His Little Mother,” in this 
new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts of 
youthful readers. 

Little Sunshine’s Holiday. 

An attractive story of a summer outing. “ Little Sun- 
shine ” is another of those beautiful child-characters for 
which Miss Mulock is so justly famous. 

By MARSHALL SA CINDERS 

For His Country. 

A sweet and graceful story of a little boy who loved his 
country ; written with that charm which has endeared Miss 
Saunders to hosts of readers. 

Nita, the Story of an Irish Setter. 

In this touching little book, Miss Saunders shows how 
dear to her heart are all of God’s dumb creatures. 

Alpatok, the Story of an Eskimo Dog. 

Alpatok, an Eskimo dog from the far north, was stolen 
from his master and left to starve in a strange city, but was 
befriended and cared for, until he was able to return to his 
owner. Miss Saunders’s story is based on truth, and the 
pictures in the book of “ Alpatok ” are based on a photo- 
graph of the real Eskimo dog who had such a strange ex- 
perience. 

A-7 






MAY 18 1908 
















































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